More Than Passion
by thisisaddicting
Summary: It was a match made in business heaven, but neither Troy nor Gabriella imagined that a union like theirs, ridden with hate and mistrust, if given the chance, could lead to unexpected pleasures . . . or maybe even more.
1. Chapter 1 Underhanded

Chapter 1

With a muffled swish, the ivory wedding gown slid down her olive skin pooling around bare feet, leaving her naked save for the white lace undergarments. She stepped out of the gown and made quick work of removing the offending pins that held the perfectly coiffed hair, dropping everything on the carpeted floor as she pulled them out.

She gave her hair one last shake and the long brunette mass tumbled artlessly over her shoulders and back like bunched satin.

Bending down, she picked up the gown and with enough force, threw it across the room where it landed on one end of the heart shaped bed.

Twenty-three year old Gabriella Montez stared at the garment with cold eyes. The whiteness and the intricate beadwork of the gown, a startling contrast to the deep hue of the red bedspread and the dim lights of the honeymoon suite, making it appear too bright . . . too perfect . . . too offending in Gabriella's eyes.

A slight frown creased her forehead, disgust suddenly evident. The gown that was currently a huge clump on the bed, in all its simple elegance, seems to be taunting her. That such a wonderful creation from designer Monique Lhuillier is worn by a happy bride.

Happy, though, is something Gabriella was definitely not.

If circumstances were different, she would have felt the appropriate joy of being a bride.

Hell, she might have even blushed with happiness while flaunting the expensive gown . . . but unfortunately for her, it wasn't the case.

Abruptly, a wave of anger and sadness assailed her and she felt the back of her eyes burn. She tightly shut them forcing the tears to dry before they even fall. She repudiated to feel weak and pitiful. She had to be strong for her own sake.

She refused to shed a tear over this predicament that her wicked witch of a stepmother cunningly thrust upon her.

She will not cry.

Taking control of her emotions, Gabriella opened her eyes and stepped closer to the bed casting the gown off with an angry push of the hand. And as if that wasn't enough distance from her, she kicked it like a soccer ball. It went flying off the floor then landed right at the door leading to the dressing area.

Childish behavior, of course. But she knew taking out her irritation and anger on the gown was a better way to dispense all the negativity in her emotions than murdering her stepmother or her husband, however satisfying both may be, and end up in jail for it.

No, she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her breakdown again.

Precisely, twelve months ago, a week after her father's death, the lawyer in charge of the late Antonio Montez' will read the testament. She wasn't interested in her share of the highly successful Montez business of hotels and resorts or which assets from the countless lands, estates, ranches and rental properties, among others, were left as inheritance. She knew what was rightfully hers even when her father was still alive because she is the only child of Antonio Montez. And money was never really an issue for her since she had already taken control of the trust fund when she turned twenty, plus the fact that she earns enough from her own profession as a photographer to continue living the luxurious life she was born into.

Mourning her father's death, at that time, made her care less that her stepmother, Marissa Heskin, had gotten enough share in the company to control the board. But just when she thought the painful process was over, the lawyer uneasily cleared his throat and read what must have been the last part of the will, "_With condition that said properties, shares and estates be transferred to my daughter Gabriella Montez, only when she enters into marriage with a man from a reputable family, with approval from my wife Marissa Heskin-Montez, by her 23__rd__ birthday. In addition, that my daughter Gabriella Montez stay married for a period of at least 5 years. If said condition is not met by the specified time allotted, all the aforementioned will be inherited by my wife, Marissa Heskin-Montez."_

It was the moment that sent her world spiraling out of control. Not only did she lose a father; she was also being robbed of her rights and freedom by the one person she had never learned to accept . . . her stepmother. She remembered gasping for air, collapsing on the floor and seeing the devious grin on Marissa's face before everything went black.

The next day she wanted to forget the anger and betrayal she felt toward her father. Her mind could not find an explanation for that wretched paragraph in the will. She began to question the closeness she shared with her father. Was all of it fake? Because he had no other choice? Or was he merely obligated to love her? The pedestal that she had built for her father came crashing down. She began to hate a lot of people but most of all she hated herself for trusting the one man who should have protected her.

She fell into depression and was slowly but surely on the road to self destruction by drinking every night. She lived like a vampire . . . asleep during the day from the hangover, awake by night ready to down as much alcohol until she passes out or end up vomiting disgustingly at some dirty alley.

She wanted to numb herself from any emotion. She wanted to escape her predetermined future even for just a night, preferring to worry of her throbbing head than the rich, spoiled, arrogant and womanizing oaf her stepmother chose for her to marry.

She would have gotten used to the drunken state but then there was Sharpay Evans, her friend since preschool, the one person that stuck around no matter how many times she pushed her away.

Maybe it was Sharpay's endless sparkle in clothes that sparked a light in Gabriella's befuddled head when she comes dragging her home most nights or it was the soothing effect of the color pink Sharpay loves a little too much or simply sheer determination to help a friend that pulled Gabriella out of the hell hole she was deeply falling into. Whatever it was, only Sharpay Evans can say that she made Gabriella sober again.

"_Look at yourself and tell me if that person you see is still Gabriella Montez!" Sharpay forcefully held her limp body toward the full length mirror, the sound of her angry voice making Gabriella's head ache even more. _

"_Yes." She croaked only to appease her, wishing Sharpay would let her get back to sleeping. The rays of the morning sun only made her feel worse than she already is._

"_No." Sharpay averred coldly, still with a firm grip on her arms to keep her standing. "Gabriella Montez does not reek in her own vomit night after night and she's not one to willingly throw her life away because of some guy."_

_Gabriella swallowed the dryness in her throat. She wanted to argue with her, tell her exactly how her dreams became useless or that she finds happiness nowadays at the bottom of a bottle. But her wasted self gave her no energy to fight back. "I'm hopeless, Sharpay. Stay away." Was all she could utter._

"_So this is how it's gonna be? You're letting her win just like that. Honestly, Gabi, I'm disappointed."_

"_What the fuck are you talking about?!"_

_Releasing the hold on her upper arms, Sharpay backed away and rolled her eyes in exasperation but deep down she was extremely concerned for Gabriella's well being. "You're oh so wonderful stepmother . . . who else?" She explained trying another tactic to get into her head. "You giving up on everything important in your life is exactly what she wants to happen. I bet she already knows that you've turned into this ghastly person and its only a matter of time before she makes a move to take over your life under the guise of being a concerned family member helping you to recover when what she's really itching to do is throw you in rehab where you will rot away for good and never bother her again. And while you're in rehab supposedly receiving treatment but getting crazier by the minute, she is having a blast running your father's business and spending away your inheritance on every luxury imaginable to man."_

"_She will never do that." She rasped, anger slowly seeping into her brain, knowing that even though Sharpay had only made up such a situation based on some movie, the possibility of it happening was too real to ignore. _

"_She will . . . but only if you let her."_

"_I won't let her." Color suddenly returning to her lips and cheeks and her dull eyes now grew alert._

"_I believe you. But first you need to stop this . . . this drunken obsession. It's been a month already." Sharpay said gesturing a hand towards a haggard looking Gabriella who was struggling to stay on her feet. "Get yourself together, Gabs. No matter how much life sucks, you have to get past that. And let's just hope, for your sake, the alcohol in your system didn't shrink your brain the size of a pea."_

_When Sharpay left minutes later after seeing her off to bed, Gabriella felt a wash of cold air knock sense into her. For the first time since the reading of the will, she allowed herself to feel and think again. And because of that, she cried all morning. She cried until her fragile body racked in sobs. She cried until her tear ducts ran dry._

_Meeting up with Sharpay the next day, her blonde friend carefully let her eyes wander over the pale yellow sundress she opted to wear as Gabriella slid into the seat opposite hers. "Are you Gabriella Montez again?"_

"_Apparently, yes."_

"_About damn time."_

_A week after that, just when she was getting her life back in order, Gabriella realized, based on several sources close to her father, that Marissa had somehow poisoned her father's mind into thinking that her daughter was in need of a keeper thus the arranged marriage and Gabriella was fairly certain that Marissa was easily able to convince her then sick father to change his will to suit her liking. _

_Yet instead of shrinking away again to wallow in her problems, Gabriella decided to accept the arranged marriage only because she didn't want Marissa to get her hands on the inheritance but with a promise to herself that she will find a way to get back at the woman who ruined her life._

So during the wedding earlier, all one hundred and fifty guests, distracted by the opulent decoration, the lavish food, endless entertainment and the overall splendor of the wedding, hardly suspected anything amiss.

They didn't see how the bride had a forced smile plastered to her face or that her usually twinkling brown orbs lacked its luster.

No one noticed that the newly wed couple hadn't spoken a word to each other during the entire reception or how they made it a point to avoid each others eyes. And if by chance their eyes would meet, they ended up glaring coldly at each other.

Nobody found it unusual when the groom sought the company of his friends for the most part of the festivities rather than stay with his new bride.

None paid heed to see that the bride with her over bright smile and hollow sounding laugh flinched every time a camera flash went off somewhere.

Not a soul in the wedding party, save one, had any indication that a part of Gabriella died when she dutifully recited her vows to a man she has no desire to be associated with.

Because, for her part, Gabriella acted like a beaming bride . . . smiling the requisite smiles, uttering gracious words at all the well wishers and gathering enough will to engage in pseudo passionate kisses with her husband that the guests frequently clamored for.

_**xxxxxxx**_

The door suddenly opened, casting light into the room from the hallway, and the familiar figure of Sharpay stood by the door still wearing the maid of honor dress with a strange look on her face. "Wow. That was quick." She drolly said, strolling further inside.

"What is?" Gabriella asked Sharpay, her brows raised quizzically.

"Your honeymoon!" She exclaimed with an eye roll, gesturing a hand at Gabriella's barely clad body sprawled out on the bed. "I mean, honey, either he's THAT good of a lover or such a lousy fuck that you had no choice but to end it quickly."

Gabriella chuckled. "You never were subtle with words, Sharpay."

"I do my best." Sharpay answered with a flip of her hair. "And this unembellished gown isn't helping any with my disposition." She slowly spun around spreading the ruche skirt of the plain ice blue gown to show her point. "You're lucky I bothered coming up here to see if you had been murdered by your hubby . . . who I must say minus the cold demeanor is quite good looking."

"Blame Cruella de Ville for the gown. She hates sparkly things." Gabriella said referring to her stepmother. "And as for _my hubby_'s looks, I think that's nature not Marissa's doing."

"Oh so you do admit he's handsome . . . is he good in bed?" Sharpay prodded even as a red pillow came flying from the bed which she easily caught.

"Seriously, Sharpay!" Gabriella protested trying her best to look stern as she swallowed a giggle. "No honeymoon is happening now or in the future."

"I wouldn't be so sure of it, Gabi. He is your husband and you will be living in the same roof. Of course, his good looks scream the words . . . _taste me and be happy_. And it's a known fact that he's a man whore. Apparently, women drop like falling leaves at his wake. At least that's what I heard." Sharpay mentioned, her voiced laced with exaggerated concern, shaking her blonde head for effect. "You never know what's in store for you while living with him."

Another wave of laughter welled from Gabriella but in the back of her mind she knew Sharpay had a point. It wasn't her husband's looks she was concerned about but rather the living arrangements in the Los Angeles mansion that her husband's parents gave as a wedding present. "Since when did you get the hots for my husband? I thought you prefer dark brooding males." She averred. "I'm the one in the rut but crap Sharpay, your mind is more messed up than mine!"

"He's not my type, hun. I can assure you that. But earlier when you were swapping spit with him, you two looked gorgeous together." Sharpay raised her arms in defense when Gabriella made a move to throw another pillow at her. "Hey, I'm not the only one with that opinion! I'm just saying . . ."

"I hate you."

"I love you too, friend."

"My life sucks."

"Well, like I always say, when life gives you lemons," Sharpay paused to recall the wise words she supposedly lived by. Her eyes lit up then added, ". . . make lemonade!"

Gabriella struggled to control her mirth but Sharpay had already began laughing, slumping down on the bed next to her. Once their laughter waned, Gabriella asked, "What if life gives you Troy Bolton? What do you make of it then?"


	2. Chapter 2 Compromise

Chapter 2

--

_A huge smile erupted from Troy Bolton as he spotted the trim, leggy brunette make her way through the airport, her eyes scanning the crowded area for a familiar face._

_He waited patiently for her girlfriend of four years, Julie Landis, to spot him, wanting to see how her face would light up like it always did whenever they are reunited after long months apart, off at different colleges finishing their degrees; hers, community development and him, business management._

_The distance was difficult for both that's why holidays, like this Christmas, have always been something to look forward to. Troy was especially excited for his plans with Julie later on tonight. He hoped it would go well as it took several nights of deliberation with his best friend Chad Danforth who was not too happy to be sent off to do errands or be asked for his opinion on which ring would look good on Julie's finger. _

_There was only a year to go in college and they would be moving in together as planned. Troy wanted to make it formal. After all, to his knowledge, their future together looked pretty darn good. _

_Finally, Julie's eyes landed on him and she gave a small smile maneuvering her way through the throngs of people. Troy was slightly disappointed by the simple acknowledgement but he didn't dwell on it long as he met Julie halfway drawing her into a tight embrace._

"_God, I missed you." He whispered loving the feel of her body pressed against his and smelling the floral scent of her hair. He was too overjoyed with her presence that he hardly noticed the slack embrace or the awkward way her body leaned on him._

"_I-- I missed you too, Troy." She piped in when he pulled back._

_There was something different about her. Troy noted but again he brushed the thought aside. His hand reached out to caress her flushed cheek while his gaze dropped to her lips and leaned down for a kiss. But Julie turned her face sideways._

"_Oh come on, babe!" He groaned mildly, her hesitation for public displays of affection, which wasn't an issue the last time, surprising him. Still, he pulled her in a hug tilting her face up for a kiss. "Let them watch."_

"_Uhh, Troy . . ." She struggled, pushing him off with a light shove._

"_What's wrong?"_

_Her hazel eyes stared at his confused blue ones with an entreating look. "I can't, Troy. I can't."_

"_Why?" Troy saw a flash of what looked like guilt in her eyes that gave him a sudden sense of foreboding._

"_I'll tell you tonight. My mom invited you over for--"_

"_Quit the shit, Julie. Tell me now!" The hard edge in his voice effectively cutting her off._

_Julie took a deep breath as if gathering courage to speak. She gave Troy a scared look then fixated her gaze on the button of his plaid shirt, unconsciously wringing her hands in nervousness._

_The action drew Troy's attention from her face. As his eyes slowly travelled down to her hands, hoping he's mistaken with his assumption; that Julie was only pulling his leg to get a reaction she could laugh about later but hope quickly died in his heart when he saw the glittering diamond ring on her finger . . . an engagement ring from another man._

_His eyes narrowed into slits before a ridiculous sounding laughter erupted from him, attracting attention from some of the crowd._

"_Troy . . . I'm so sorry. I know I should have told you sooner but I just didn't know how and I didn't want to tell you over the--"_

_Troy grabbed her wrist and yanked the hand that bore the ring up to her face. She gasped at the force of his hold, her entire body going rigid._

"_Tell me, how does it feel to be a cheater?" Troy asked; his voice low and menacing. He shoved her hand off like it was contagious then added sarcastically, "Send my regards to your fiancé. Tell him to lay off on fucking you long enough to teach you what fidelity means because obviously I never got around to doing that."_

Troy shook the memory aside running a hand through his dark blond hair. He was annoyed with himself for thinking about Julie while he was getting married to Gabriella Montez.

He had met Gabriella once when they were formally introduced over dinner with their families but at that time had not bothered to take a good look at her. He wasn't interested in knowing her or being friendly with her. What he did remember was that she was wearing the most unflattering set of clothes that he likened to a sack and a cap that tucked her hair in and covered half her face. It was quite obvious she made an effort to deglamorize herself during that meeting. She wasn't interested in knowing him either. And they never uttered a word to each other during the entire dinner.

He had only agreed to the marriage for the benefit of Reiss Corporation, the company that his grandfather, from his mother's side of the family, created. It was Troy's inheritance. By marrying Gabriella, Reiss Corporation will gain additional funds and resources to diversify its industry specifically into wine and tea production. Something Troy took interest in managing along with the chain of restaurants and bars all over the country he was already in charge of.

Callous reason it may be for marrying someone but at this point he didn't particularly care. After Julie, he welcomed the attention of women, which he used to ignore before, throwing their self at him. And there were many who wanted him. He was never with the same woman twice. Anything to forget Julie was always welcome.

That was also one of the reasons why his grandfather and his parents put him up to the arranged marriage. His poor mother, worried out of her wits of the women he dates, had given up hope on seeing him with a decent female but alas found a solution in Gabriella Montez.

She was the perfect choice . . . in a practical business sense, of course. Even Troy knew that.

During the wedding, these reasons were running through his head like a mantra to keep him in his place by the altar. But when Gabriella finally came out, Troy froze instantly. The Gabriella he knew in his mind was not even a shadow of the person who was walking gracefully along the aisle.

Decked in a white strapless gown designed with glittering beads and flower appliqué, Gabriella looked every bit the beautiful and elegant bride; charming curls fell from the loose bun of her hair framing a face that Troy swore, in his state of shock, had a staggering similarity to Julie.

His mind went blank staring at her stupidly for what seems like hours. It was only when she raised her brown eyes, which were coldly suspicious, did he snap out of it and immediately averted his gaze.

Everything was a blur following that. He was only there as a participant; to play a part. The wedding was an expensive masquerade to conduct business between two families. So after the pleasantries that were expected of him, he wandered off and found himself where he is now, a nice secluded bench on the other side of their rented villa.

"Dude, I know you wanted a moment alone but don't disappear like that without telling anyone." The familiar voice of Chad interrupted Troy's peace, making him jump slightly in surprise.

"That's the whole point of my disappearing, Chad."

"I looked for you all over the villa which wasn't easy by the way considering the size of this place." Chad sat beside him, his intention to stay by Troy made clear. "They really went all out for this wedding. I mean, we're in a fucking villa on top of a hill in Italy!"

Troy laughed brusquely, removing his designer coat tossing it on a rock next to him then folding the arms of his long sleeved shirt up to his elbow. "Yeah. I'm absolutely thrilled."

"So is your new wife! She has the same . . . err . . . unenthusiastic look as you."

"Is she still there?"

"Nah. She left thirty minutes after you went. Probably in your room. I saw that blonde friend of hers -- the one with the weird name -- going in just before I came looking for you." Chad said then after a split second of hesitation prodded on, "You should talk to her, man. I'm guessing she's just as confused as you are."

Troy looked at Chad with an expressionless face. "What do I say to her? I don't even know why she agreed to this marriage. We don't know anything about each other. Hell, I didn't even know she looks like Julie!"

"Forget Julie! It's Gabriella now and it's only you who think she looks like Julie." Chad told him in an annoyed tone. Julie Landis wasn't exactly on his top ten favorite persons list considering what she did to Troy. Truth be told, he was somewhat glad for this marriage because finally his friend will have another woman to think about. He wasn't expecting Troy to fall in love with Gabriella but at least she would make a wonderful distraction for his best friend. "Look, man, why don't you go up to her now and make good use of this night getting acquainted."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this . . ."

"What -- No! I wasn't implying anything sexual, dickhead! You said you don't know her so get to know her! You're the one with the dirty mind, Bolton." Chad exclaimed defensively then suddenly shot him a knowing look. "Wait a minute . . . you are thinking about fucking her! I don't blame you, dude. She's pretty hot."

Troy shook his head and moved to stand. He gave Chad a look of bland amusement before saying, "I'm going. I'm following your advice. I will discuss . . . matters with her."

"Yeah, you do that. It's always a good idea to _discuss matters _on your honeymoon night."

**_xxxxxxxx_**

"_I must be going out of my mind." _Troy thought to himself as he dragged along the empty hallway leading to the honeymoon suite. He decided to make an effort to communicate with Gabriella. It was inevitable anyway considering their situation. There were details concerning their day to day living that needed to be addressed. He wasn't one to compromise on things that he was already used to but that was a price he expected to pay for agreeing to the marriage.

Sighing, he quickened his steps a little. _The sooner I get this over with the better._

He reached out to open the door but found it already ajar. He took a step but halted as he heard voices coming from inside. He recognized one belonging to Gabriella and the other a male voice.

"You always kiss me before you go." Gabriella's voice echoed through the door. It was mildly teasing.

There was a chuckle then a lengthy pause before the man's voice said, "I'm not happy with what you got yourself into, Ella."

"I know and I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I will hold you to that."

"You should go."

"Yes. But put something on, will you?"

Outside, Troy's initial shock was outweighed by total disgust. He could not believe that his wife would welcome a man into their room on the night of their wedding. He abruptly backed up the door and proceeded past his room to avoid the man that was now exiting the room.

The man, in a navy blue jacket and faded jeans who was probably just as tall as Troy, left in a hurry; not bothering to look sideways for anybody who could have seen him . . . like the blue eyed groom who watched as he disappeared from the hallway before entering the suite where an unsuspecting Gabriella was about to grab a robe from the armrest of the chair next to the bed.

"You hate this marriage but couldn't wait to get laid." He said with dripping sarcasm, scaring Gabriella out of her wits. She whirled around to face him, a mix of surprise and confusion on her face. "You should have told me. I would've come up sooner . . . after all I am your husband now and I have every right to your body. And it wouldn't have been a quickie like what you and your stud just engaged in."

"Excuse me?!"

A humorless laugh escaped his lips and his face remained hard. "I never took you for a bitch, Montez, but I guess these days you never know."

Gabriella was flabbergasted. He had obviously seen Paolo coming from their room and had instantly assumed some hanky panky happened. All thoughts of explaining were shoved aside as her temper flared over the unfair accusations.

She strode over to him forgetting the silk robe she was about to put on. Her eyes bore into his with ire.

Troy held her gaze unblinkingly fighting against the sudden distraction of her body walking towards him and the long wavy hair that swayed with her every step. He did not expect her to be this alluring.

She stopped about a pace away from him and said, "Ah yes! A man whore like you is no doubt an expert in bitches. But in this case, Bolton, you are dead wrong."

The saccharine sweetness in her tone took him by surprise and the proximity of her almost naked figure left Troy unable to evade the hand that suddenly connected to his cheek with a loud whack.

His head jerked sideways from the force of her slap but he recovered quickly, his vision clouding dangerously. For the first time in the twenty four years of his life, Troy was slapped by a woman and he wasn't about to let her action pass without consequence.

He grabbed her by the waist all of a sudden, making her yelp then roughly pushed her against the nearest wall effectively trapping her arms between their bodies to keep her from shoving or hitting him. "What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!" She snapped angrily, unable to move.

His arms tightened around her. "Don't you dare try that again or--"

"Or what? You'll tell your mommy about it." She scoffed still trying to break free of his hold.

He scowled at that but is also unwillingly impressed by her feistiness. Even Julie wasn't as brave to challenge him when he's in a foul mood. But Julie knew him. Gabriella didn't. _Damn! _He berated himself. _Why does he keep thinking of Julie?! _

For a moment they stood there in silence as if in a staring contest, neither one backing down. Troy let his eyes rove over her features noting the smooth skin, perfectly arched brow, chocolate brown eyes framed by long russet lashes, an elegant nose and luscious pink lips.

Chad was right. The hair, the nose and the curve of her cheekbones may have some liking to Julie but that's just about it. Julie had none of Gabriella's allure or the playful innocence in her eyes. It dawned on Troy that his wife is far more beautiful than Julie could ever be. And somehow that realization made him slowly forget all thoughts of Julie . . . at least for the moment.

Gabriella noted his eyes had swiftly altered. It was no longer hard and scary but replaced by what could only be described as gentleness and . . . awe. She was bewildered by the sudden change and that made her to stop struggling.

She realized with a start that Sharpay was right. Troy Bolton is indeed good looking and even more so up close. There wasn't anything remarkable about his features but in its entirety made for a face that was hard not to notice or admire. The brown hair that fell over his brow had a charming appeal that most females will find irresistible and those intense blues that easily changes shade from light to dark depending on his mood could seduce any female over the age of ten. Herself not excluded.

He lifted his head a fraction, eyes never leaving hers. Gabriella was sure he was letting go. She prepared herself to push him off. Instead, one hand lifted to her cheek in a caress so gentle it seems almost in slow motion. She was enthralled by his touch; her body, as if with a mind of it own, relaxed against him and she forgot that she was mad at him just a minute ago.

Then Troy, as if in a trance from staring into Gabriella's eyes, bent his head and swooped down to her lips. It happened too quickly to resist. Gabriella gasped at the shock of his warm lips covering hers then felt the hand on her cheek slide down to her neck before drifting over her bare back while the other stayed around her waist drawing her closer so that the contours of her body were fitted against his hardening built.

She was lost; her heart beating wildly against her chest as his sensual mouth settled firmly over hers, gently tracing each curve . . . wanting to be acquainted with her lips. His tongue teased the seam after a moment and with a sigh she opened her mouth and let him slip his tongue inside.

The pressure of Troy's mouth increased; exploring and tasting every sweet crevice as his hand moved up again to curve around her nape, his fingers threading into her hair. He too was lost in the kiss.

Gabriella's arms which were trapped between their bodies, in its own volition, slid up his shirt and wound around his neck.

The kiss grew intense in seconds.

Troy groaned low in his throat at the incredible feeling of having to kiss Gabriella and her kissing back just as ardently. When air became an issue his lips slowly descended, trailing kisses along her jaw then to her neck smiling against it when she moaned and held him tighter.

Encouraged by her reaction, his lips moved further south, kissing the smooth swell of her breasts that were barely covered by the strapless white bra while his hand reached behind to open the hook. It fell off easily, exposing her pert breast to him.

She felt his palm stroke over her rib cage as it slowly moved up to cup one breast; his fingers tightening gently over its fullness then it was quickly replaced by his warm mouth. Gabriella almost cried out loud at the pleasure. She arched her body toward him as he lifted her up slightly over his erection. She wanted more. She didn't want him to stop.

Suddenly, a shrill sound cut through the silence of the room, snapping Gabriella's senses back in focus. Her eyes went wide as saucers and her face flushed a deep shade of red. She abruptly unwound her arms from his neck wrapping it over her exposed chest and down casting her eyes to avoid his.

The sound was Troy's phone ringing inside his pants pocket. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly let go, gazing down at her with his brows drawn into a frown, his breathing heavy and his eyes glazed with lust.

He took a deep harsh breath, lips stretching into a thin line as he tried to regain composure. After a minute or so, he dug into his pocket for his phone and spoke a curt hello to whoever called him, turning away from Gabriella to talk to his caller.

She took that moment to bolt from her spot and grab the robe she should have put on earlier, wrapping it around her body like her life depended on it. She moved as far away from him as possible going around the other side of the bed near the balcony doors. Her brain was in a jumble but she was silently berating herself for letting him kiss her and more so for kissing him back.

"Gabriella . . ." Troy called softly, having finished with the call.

She jumped slightly and gave off a self conscious laugh. "I -- I . . . Did we just do that?" Her voice came out like a squeak making her blush even more.

He shot her a serious glance, traces lust gone from his eyes. "Yes . . ." And without offering any explanation as to why he did what he just did added to say, "but it won't happen again."

She nodded not knowing what else to say. She was mad at him just moments ago, wasn't she? She remembered professing hatred toward him before he came in. Yet, she could still feel his lips on her skin. Her own lips felt swollen, tingling from his pleasurable assault and her chest was still heaving for air. God, she was loosing her mind!

"I'm not staying here tonight." Troy stated with finality shoving his hands into his trousers pocket and headed for the door. Before leaving, he turned back slowly as if hesitating and after a weary sigh said, "Look, Gabriella, you and I both know this marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement. We both don't want this. I don't expect you to act wifely for me and I really don't care if you fool around with other guys. Just . . . be discreet about it and have some respect for our conjugal space."

She could not believe her ears. Her mouth fell open as if to speak but finding no words come out closed back up. She could not believe his audacity to suggest she take up an affair albeit discreetly and lecture her at the same time about respect. Is this the same man who kissed her with amazing passion?

"Are you really this unscrupulous? Or just simply messed up in the head?" Gabriella whispered aghast, all thoughts of their earlier lip lock shoved aside. Troy remained impassive. He just stood by the door waiting for her to continue.

Shaking the incredulity from her head, she decided to act as blasé as he was. "These _righteous _conditions you set for my guidance, I assume, goes both ways."

"Naturally . . . in the spirit of fairness, these rules will apply to me too."

"Oh, you flatter me too much with these words, Troy." She sighed, hands flying over her chest in dramatic mockery intending to insult him if only to break his nonchalance over their predicament. "Really . . . you are too considerate of my feelings! However did I get so lucky to marry a man with such high principles? I feel sooo unworthy."

But he was made of stone. "We're in agreement then." Troy retorted coolly before leaving.

"_Oh my god! My life is officially screwed."_

_--_


	3. Chapter 3 Decisions

Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to all those who took time to read and review this story. You guys are awesome!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Disney owns HSM not me. Any other familiar names mentioned in this story is not mine either._

--

Sunday is _"Pamper Sharpay"_ time.

Typically, she would be in bed taking her time to wake up. Sundays means tinkering around her apartment, go jogging, preparing a proper breakfast and in the afternoon treat herself to a wonderful spa.

Sunday is a day for rest and relaxation. A day where she needn't worry about deadlines or schedules. A day to de-stress and think about herself alone.

And why not think of herself at least one day of the week?

Working as senior press relations officer for Gucci in L.A. requires multi-tasking, a skill Sharpay happens to be extremely good with. But her job also means almost her entire week is spent in meetings with editors, stylists, creative designers and other influential people in the fashion industry; attending trunk shows and helping facilitate shoots for different publications, to name a few.

She isn't complaining or lamenting over the hectic days because she loves her job and wouldn't trade it for anything. In fact, she takes pride in what she does and she is offended by people who say that she doesn't need to be working for the simple reason that she's an Evans.

And Evans for a last name meant rich, crème de la crème of high society, getting everything and anything or whatever else the name denotes. The world can be tough even to people born into luxury because they give restrictions to what a rich kid should do with their lives. It's as if you cannot be good at anything when you're rich or they immediately assume you didn't work hard for a position like everybody else. But Sharpay does her best to balance the socialite and the working girl in her if only to keep most of her acquaintances happy -- in case she needs a favor or two from them in the future.

Come to think of it, she's also quite diplomatic when need be. And for those reasons alone, she not only deserves applause but also a break from a grueling week of work.

Sunday is always that day but at nine o'clock that morning when the incessant ringing of the telephone blared throughout her apartment rousing her from sleep and making her fall off the bed in her haste to answer the call, Sharpay knew this particular Sunday will not be hers to enjoy.

"This had better be good." Sharpay groaned into the phone not bothering to ask who the caller was. She slowly lifted her weight off the floor, cradling the phone between her neck and ears and climbed back onto the pink queen sized bed sighing as the feather trimmings of the bed spread tickled her skin. She was gradually slipping to blissful sleep again.

"I need a man, Sharpay. And I need it pronto."

Sharpay bolted upright pulling the eye mask from her face as she adjusted the phone to her ear. "Gabriella? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me and this is qualified as life and death situation for you."

"For me? What's that got to do with you needing a man?"

"The model didn't show! If you want to make the deadline for Elle magazine then you get your butt off the bed and come here at the studio."

"I am gonna kill that --"

"Sharpay --"

"I'm up!" She screeched in agitation sliding off the bed and heading for the bathroom. "I'll be there in thirty."

_**xxxxxxxx**_

As promised, thirty minutes later, a not so happy Sharpay walked through the door of the building structure she often referred to as a warehouse.

She was greeted by a few people she knew were members of Gabriella's staff as she made her way inside the studio, expertly maneuvering around a maze of things that were used as props -- racks of assorted clothing for men and women, rolls of backdrop paper in every imaginable scenery design, cardboard trees, animals and rocks, layers of bright fabrics hanging from pipes on the low ceiling, plastic food items, various kinds of tables and chairs, a collection of pillows, umbrella reflectors, several cameras on tripods and a variety of photographic equipment that she had no idea what was used for.

The place is spacious and cluttered as you would expect any photo studio but Sharpay, having spent enough time with Gabriella, knew the set like the back of her hand. She knows the first door is used as pantry that her best friend stacks with enough food to feed an army. The second door is Gabriella's office that adjoined to an adequately sized bedroom and bath that she uses when she cannot be bothered to drive home after a late photo shoot. And the third door led to a windowless room where a complicated machine develops the photographs.

She found a bare footed Gabriella, in a purple tank top and tight jeans, clicking away with a camera while a female model in an asymmetrical red party dress posed in front of a green backdrop paper as per Gabriella instructions.

"Look seductive." She ordered at the model, shoulders hunched while she assessed the pose snapping with the camera as she moved. "Great!"

"Belligerent."

The model straightened and looked at Gabriella in puzzlement. "What?"

Gabriella lowered the camera, her lips opening slightly. "Aggressive." She clarified patiently. "Spoiling for a fight . . . get it?"

The pretty blonde model nodded. Then her eyes scowled. Her lips puckered, stretching the carefully made up skin over high cheekbones. "That's perfect, Helena!" complimented Gabriella taking a series of shots. "Let's get you changed to the next clothing."

When Helena walked off the set, Gabriella turned away as well and was not surprised to find a sullen looking Sharpay slumped on an oversized couch. "Well?" She began, raising a challenging brow.

"I called the agency already and they said Jesse had a family emergency of some sort." Sharpay explained in a tone that showed her annoyance over such a lame excuse.

"Can they not send a replacement?"

"They're working on it but not promising anything. Their models are booked tight and those who aren't cannot be bothered because it's a Sunday. And it's not easy finding a man given your specific description."

Gabriella's brows scrunched in thought. Tomorrow, photos for the modeled Gucci clothes should be submitted or else there will be hell to pay. She would do away with the male model if she could but as it is, there were suits to be worn.

The creative designers at Gucci specifically requested Gabriella to do the photo shoot and Sharpay was to oversee it meaning she's the person to call when problems like this are encountered.

"I can't think of anything right now." She admitted, striding over to where Sharpay was seated and plopped down next to hers. "Except, like I said earlier, we need a man."

"Hey, who doesn't?" came the glib retort. "And quite frankly, you need one more than I do. I'm not talking about a model by the way."

Gabriella lightly slapped her arm. "In case you've forgotten, I'm married. I have a man."

Sharpay laughed, one that had a sardonic sound to it leaning back against the couch, arms crossed over her chest. "Says who? That wedding band you chained around your neck? Yeah right! What you have is a ghost. Not a man." She scoffed with an eye roll. "It's been what -- six months -- of living in one house yet both of you are like boarders in that mansion. You live on separate sides of that house. You don't even see each other at all! I can't believe you even suggested this kind of arrangement."

"It's for our best interests. No complications. And he was more than agreeable to it."

"What complications? It's complicated enough to begin with. Yes, of course he'll agree. He's a hot blooded male, Gabriella! He lives for the freedom to dally with many women and I very much doubt if Bolton believes in the word abstinence." Sharpay averred in agitation. "And do you really think you can keep this up for four years and six months more?"

Gabriella bit her lip uneasily. It was during their plane ride from Italy, the day after the wedding six months ago, that they were able to discuss the pressing matter of their living arrangement.

"_So it's clear then? The east side is yours and the west is mine. There are common areas in the house but if you're as busy as me, I doubt you will find time to even use the kitchen or the living room." Troy, looking up from the newspaper he was reading, explained. _

_Gabriella remained gazing out the window. She was not in a conversing mood due to lack of sleep from the night before which was mostly caused by the man seated next to her. "Yeah, whatever." She snorted. "We're both single. We act like it."_

_There was a rustling of newspaper as he folded them while he eased sideways to face her. "Hey, I'm trying to iron out this mess we have! The least you can do is listen." He austerely said reaching a hand to touch her arm._

_She recoiled at his touch like she was burned, hastily tugging her arm away from his grasp. The memory of last nights heated kiss flooding her mind causing her to tremble slightly. "I listened!" She insisted, annoyed with herself. "We live separately in one house. We go out as a couple only when absolutely necessary. We pretend to be a happily married pair to friends who think this marriage will actually work and to our family who wants to make sure we're sticking by the terms of this arranged marriage. We can go on dates with other people and have relationships with them so long as we're discreet. Is there anything else I didn't cover?" _

_Troy was taken aback by her outburst but he deftly concealed it with a blank face. "Yes, one thing . . . don't flinch when I touch you." He said which sounded more like an order to Gabriella._

_Her eyes sent daggers his way and she poked his chest with a well polished nail. "Who the hell do you think you are?! I may be married to you but you do not own me. I will not be ordered around like some brainless tra--"_

"_Shut up." He muttered._

"_No! You shut up and listen." She butted in crossly. "Understand this -- I am not one of your girls so do not treat me like one. I do not fancy you and I will not worship the ground you walk on. I agree to all these terms regarding our marriage but outside of it whatever I do is none of your fucking business and that includes flinching at your touch when I feel like it."_

"_God! You talk too much." He alleged with a fleeting look over his shoulder then in one fluid motion his hands were on both sides of her face cradling it with surprising tenderness. _

_Caught off guard, it took a second for Gabriella to recognize the gleam in his eyes before his lips came down on hers for a kiss. "N-No . . ." She dissented but Troy silenced her by deepening the pressure of his lips._

"_Shut up and kiss me back." He whispered against her lips but he did not ease his grasp on her face. _

_If Troy had kissed her roughly, she would have fought him off. But the kiss was not as fierce as last night. It was soft and unhurried and sweet yet the effect on Gabriella was just as arousing. _

_With a helpless sigh, she obliged and just as softly brushed her lips against his; light feathery kisses that made her forget yet again the annoyance and hatred she felt toward him. _

_But before the world melted away around them, they heard a deliberate cough. _

_Reluctantly, Troy pulled away but his arm looped over Gabriella's shoulder drawing her closer to him and he looked up to see an elderly man in a checkered shirt and matching khaki pants waiting by the aisle for his attention. _

"_Mr. Roth!" He greeted the smiling man while Gabriella stiffened next to him recognizing the man as one of the wedding guests. "I didn't hear you approach." He shifted his weight a little to tell her, "Oh, babe, Mr. Roth here is a friend of my grandfather."_

_She nearly choked at the endearment but she forced a nod instead._

"_I apologize for the intrusion, Troy, Gabriella." Mr. Roth amended with a chuckle. Gabriella offered him a disconcerted smile. Obviously, the old man wasn't really sorry. He looked more thrilled by what he witnessed. "I was just -- well, you know what -- never mind. It's not that important anyway."_

"_Are you sure, Mr.Roth? We don't mind." Troy urged sounding like he was in a jovial mood while he made a deliberate show of affectionately rubbing Gabriella's arm. It made Mr. Roth smile from ear to ear._

"_I'm sure, Troy. I'm going. Continue where you left off."_

_Gabriella yanked his arm off once Mr. Roth left their side. "What was that?! Are you bipolar or something? Half the time I don't know how your mood swings pan out."_

"_That, Montez," He drawled cockily sitting up straight and pulling the newspaper tucked in front of him. "is how to pretend when we're around friends or family."_

"_Next time you pretend, don't consider kissing part of it!"_

"_Why not? Kissing is the easiest and most convincing way to pretend you care for someone. And besides, you seem to like it."_

_Gabriella huffed. If it wouldn't draw attention from the plane, she would have stomped her foot in frustration at Troy's nonchalance. "And you're the one who declared last night that it won't happen again." _

_Unexpectedly, he smirked at that and he looked at Gabriella with smiling eyes. "I did, didn't I?" He said. "Let me rephrase it then. Kissing won't happen again except when we have to make others believe that we're a loving married couple." _

_"Your cunning wit astounds me." She said sarcastically._

_He continued to smile, bending his head to her ear then whispering, "If it helps any, I must say I like kissing you too."_

_Gabriella leaned away from him, the warmth of his breath against her ear was disrupting her thinking. "Don't even try to flatter me. Every guy likes to kiss girls. Doesn't matter who it is so long as it's a girl. And you're no exception."_

_"True. But in your case, Montez, I can't seem to control myself and that never happened to me before."_

When they reached L.A., after Troy made some fake promise to his parents that they will plan a proper honeymoon soon, they stuck with the arrangement agreed upon. The last part of their conversation on the plane forgotten. And that was the last she saw of him.

It was strange at first, living in a different house knowing that in another end was her husband but once she got adjusted, she went on with her life like usual. But when most of the people she works with began constantly asking when they will get to meet him -- the elusive husband -- an uneasy feeling, she kept trying to ignore, surfaced.

She never voiced this to Sharpay but now that the subject is open . . . can she do it? Can she keep living with a stranger? Can she waste away five years for a man she doesn't care about only to keep Marissa's hands from her inheritance?

"Your silence answers my question loud and clear, Gabriella."

"I don't know if all this is worth it, Sharpay. If I stay married, Marissa won't get my inheritance but by then I would have spent five years in a marriage that kept me from finding Mr. Right. Cheesy as it sounds, but I want to get married to a man I love and who loves me back." She avowed suddenly feeling depressed as the reality of her situation came crashing down. "If I decide to end this now, Marissa gets everything that my father and mother had worked hard for. And I don't know if I can take knowing that."

Sharpay's face dropped sadly as she reached out to hug Gabriella. "I'm so sorry, Gabs. I can't decide for you on these but just know that whether you need me or not, I'm always here."

"I'm here for you too, Shar, whenever, wherever." They exchanged smiles that bellied the strong bond they developed over the course of their friendship. Both silently acknowledging their luck to find a friend in one another.

"Well," Sharpay breathed breaking the poignant moment after a while. "this is fun and all, Gabs, but we strayed too far on the problem at hand -- _we still need this man!_"

Giggling, Gabriella nodded. "I never thought we'd need a man this bad." She looked up to see Helena had already changed into a little black dress and was walking back into the set. "I trust your powers of finding solutions." With that, she left Sharpay and attended to her model.

A good hour and a half later, a grinning Sharpay joined Gabriella in the pantry and helped herself with a bottle of Evian from the fridge. "We have a lunch date." She informed then took a swig of water.

Gabriella lifted a brow. "With who?"

"Don't know." Sharpay shrugged sketchily. "It's a blind date Taylor Mckessie set up for me a few weeks back. You know Taylor back in high school, the decathlon president, class valedictorian. I've been putting it off but now seem like a perfectly good time."

"Uhuh. Why now? Aren't you forgetting the male model we need for the shoot?"

"Oh that . . . I asked for a few hours extension from Elle. They said yes."

"Okaay . . . so why do you need me for this date?"

"It's a double date. I told Taylor I'm bringing you along so she in turn told the guy to bring a friend too." Sharpay held up a hand to stop anymore questions from Gabriella. "And before you say another word, we can use this opportunity to find the man we need for the shoot because according to Taylor this guy is supposedly a hunk."

"I can't go on a date!" Gabriella objected shaking her head vigorously at the idea.

"Not in those clothes, you can't." Sharpay remarked with a quick once over of Gabriella's clothing.

"That's not what I mean and you know it." She insisted in exasperation.

Leaning both hands on the table, Sharpay said, "Unless you can tell me with a 100 percent certainty that your husband has not seen, dated or screwed another female over the past six months then I won't force you to come on this date."

Gabriella buried her head between her hands and closed her eyes in lethargy. She had no argument over that. They were both also well aware of Troy Bolton's reputation regarding women. And even if she tried to argue that dating while she's married is against her principles, knowing Sharpay, it will be a futile effort.

"I bet you, Bolton is not wasting time while he's married to you. So you shouldn't either. Dating is one way to meet Mr. Right."

"Or Mr. Wrong."

"The point is if you do not do something about your love life right now, it will stay that way for the next four years and half that you're with Bolton. And if I recall correctly, the last relationship you were in was with that Todd guy. That's like junior in college."

"Oh right, this is coming from you, the girl with a love life." Gabriella derided.

"I may not have one, but I'm working on it. It takes patience to find _The Man._" Sharpay quipped back unperturbed. "My standards are high so there has to be many to choose from."

Gabriella ran her hands through her messy curls and sighed jadedly. "Fine, you win."

"Perfect! This is gonna be a fun Sunday afterall!" Sharpay cheered. "I can feel it."

--


	4. Chapter 4 Tangled

Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**_ Don't own anything.

--

_She was completely naked. The two piece swim suit lay forgotten at their feet._

_She would never let him touch her this way. But the incredible feel of her slick skin straining against his was all too real. Droplets of pool water making her skin look even more inviting than it already is. She was warm, sexy and willing in his arms. Her head was thrown back against the white walls in pleasure. Her hands clung to his shoulder for support and her breasts rubbed against his bare chest as she moved her delectable body in tune with his fingers inside her wet core._

"_Troy . . . fast . . ." She whimpered with urgency, looking straight at him with glassy eyes._

_The sound of his name on her semi parted lips aroused him even more. He moved his fingers to heed her plea and covered her lips with his own muffling her moans in a searing kiss. _

_In mere moments, she came undone her body tensing her juices flowing in his hand. For Troy, it was a sight to behold. She was glorious consumed with desire and it was because of him._

_It made his body throb until even his limbs began to tremble. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her wet warmth but he prolonged his need to wait for her to come down from the high. _

_She isn't like all the other women, he reminded himself, watching her body slowly relaxing. "Gabriella . . ." He breathed, the raspy voice sounding foreign to his own ears. His hands feverishly shifted down the back of her thighs carefully lifting her up to the right height. "I need you now."_

"_I'm yours, Troy." She whispered wrapping her legs around him. _

_That was all he needed to hear. He drove his entire length into her welcoming warmth and they both groaned at the exquisite feeling of being intimately joined. He wanted to go slow, lengthen the passion between them but the arousing shift of her body made him loose control. _

_He became rough and demanding and she took him without restraint. Her back was pushed up against the cold wall from the force of his thrust but she didn't seem to care. She wanted him . . . all of him._

_He was consumed with passion and she was fueling it even more with cries of pleasure. It didn't take long for him to come close to exploding and he could sense from the exigency of her moans that she was near orgasm. "Gabriella . . ." He panted clenching his eyes shut._

_But suddenly she stopped. Her legs loosening from his hips and when she found her footing pushed him away. "Troy . . . I'm so sorry."_

_His eyes still remained shut refusing to open at will. "No, no, don't be sorry. Don't stop." He stumbled back a little but reached out blindly to hold her again._

_She doesn't seem to be listening. "I know I should have told you sooner but I just didn't know how and I didn't want to tell you over the--"_

_The familiarity of the line made him force his eyes open and was shocked to find Gabriella gone instead there was, "Julie?!"_

He sat up from his bed in shock sweat dripping down his bare skin. Conscious of the discomfort between his thighs, he struggled to reorient himself. His eyes scanned the room apprehensively and when he saw no one with him, he cursed aloud, "Dammit!"

He was drunk last night. He had to be. Why else would his heated dreams of Gabriella end with Julie there? He had dreams of Gabriella before but it always ended to his satisfaction. However, there was no rational explanation for what he just dreamed of. And if there is one, it wasn't crossing his mind right now.

Leaning back against the headboard, he raked his hands through his sweat damp hair trying to shake off the bizarre feeling of his fucked up dream. He closed his eyes again, relaxing his taut nerves by thinking about the tea farm Reiss Corporation recently acquired. He had to study everything about _Tea. _He had a lot of work to do to familiarize himself with the farm and its operations. He intended to run the farm well . . . if not better than the previous owners.

Several minutes later, he forced himself to leave the bed and jumped in the bathroom for a shower. He stood under the spray willing himself to relax but thoughts of Gabriella entered his mind again.

Yes, he was _possibly_ drunk last night when Chad dropped him off. He had one too many drinks. And it was because he chose to focus his attention on the various choices of alcoholic beverages than on the women at the club who were vying for more than just flirtatious conversation.

Normally, he would have jumped at any chance to fuck any willing female but about two months ago he was suddenly ridden with guilt over the thought of _cheating _on Gabriella. And as much as he tried to douse it by thinking she was probably seeing other guys as well, the guilt refused to go away.

In the months following their marriage, he lived day by day thinking about himself, his work and his friends alone. It was how he used to live before. He was used to it. And he rationalized that she most likely lived her own life without him in the picture. It was their agreement anyway. He saw no point in stressing over the fact yet the faint voice in his head persistently nagged him, reminding him that he's no longer single and available.

For a while, he was succesfully able to push it aside. But then came the days when he would chance to see Gabriella in the house. She was unaware of him since he always kept his distance sticking with the agreement of living seperately.

He saw her in the kitchen once, sitting atop a counter; a pint of Ben & Jerry's in one hand, eyes closed while licking a spoon clean of ice cream. Her pink tongue darting in and out of her mouth. It was the most seductive sight he ever saw and it took a lot of control to restrain himself from ravaging her right then and there.

Weeks after that, he saw her again. This time she was asleep on the couch, her hair sprawled out on the cushion in charming disarray. She wore a teal colored tank that was slightly raised at the hem affording a glimpse of flat stomach that Troy longed to touch with his hands and lips. She looked so peaceful yet so tempting at the same time.

Both times, he dreamed of her.

They were wild dreams. Usually ending with him sated and Gabriella snuggled up next to him. And both instances, he would find release the next day in a nameless female that offered herself to him.

Last night he saw her swimming in the indoor pool. She was wearing a gold bikini that seem to blend with her skin tone. She was a seductive vision. It made him remember their honeymoon night and the kiss they shared. He didn't know where he found the discipline to stay away considering his supposed drunken state. But he did and that was why he dreamed of her again. Only this time it ended differently.

Sighing, he stepped out of the shower feeling clean and refreshed and his body somewhat calm. He didn't want to think anymore. He went back to bed after putting on comfortable clothes hoping to be lulled back to sleep but just as he was about to close his eyes the door flew open and a grinning Chad materialized in his peripheral vision.

"There's this thing called knocking you know." Troy grumbled shifting on his side to turn away from Chad.

"Get up." He said. "We're going out."

"Fuck off."

"No, can't do that." Chad said flatly. "I have a date and you're coming with me."

Troy sat up irritably knowing Chad would not stop to pester him. "As what? Your wing man? Thanks but no."

"What happened to you? You look like shit."

"It's called being hung over, moron. I was drunk last night in case you forgot."

Chad narrowed his gaze at Troy with oddity. "No, you weren't . . . unless you kept drinking after I dropped you off."

It was Troy's turn to frown looking up to see mild confusion written over his friend's face that mirrored his own. And from Chad's tone of voice, he was sure he wasn't messing with him. "I wasn't? Then why do I feel like my head just came out of a war zone?"

Standing a few steps away from the bed, Chad crossed both arms as he seems to ponder what was said. Troy noted his brows curling together in an almost comical way and his lips pursed into a thoughtful line.

Then in the next second his eyes lit up like a brilliant idea just came to him and his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "What?!" Troy asked.

"This is what happens when a player like you suddenly decides to be celibate!" He guffawed with much gusto stepping sideways to lean a hand against a table for support. Apparently finding Troy's dilemma a good source of mirth. "I didn't think you could go on without sex for a week much more so for two months but hell you did! I applaud the determination but I can see now how this no sex policy is screwing with your brain!"

Chad's laughing analysis of his problem hit him in full realization. He hated to admit it but there was truth in it. All these crazy dreams are because of unrelieved sexual tension. It started when he decided to steer away from fucking random females to appease his guilt. For lack of any argument, Troy scoffed, "I'm hearing this from a guy who's as much of a player if not more."

"So what? I'm not denying myself of a good fuck, unlike you. It's not healthy. And it pains me to see you like this."

"I'm touched by your concern, Danforth." Troy snorted finally standing up to grab a bottle of water from the small fridge in his room.

"Just be thankful I'm here to help you."

"Wonderful . . ."

"We're going on this date, Bolton, and you are gonna get laid."

_**xxxxxxxxx**_

They alighted from Sharpay's car at the canopied entrance of one of L.A.'s high-end steakhouse restaurant, Spark. It was Taylor's choice as she was meeting them and their blind dates there to facilitate the introductions before she takes off.

As they stepped inside, the maitre d' named Michael greeted them with a welcoming smile. "Reservations for Mckessie." Sharpay said offhandedly while Gabriella stood next to her letting her eyes rove across the restaurant.

The place feels 1930's art deco, and a fun vertical neon sign out on the front of the building reinforces the style. Gabriella sensed comfort from the other diners and probably the reason for that is the surroundings of Spark is upscale, but you would never feel like you couldn't walk in wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The restaurant is chic, but not too outrageous.

The décor features dark colored wood trim, tables, and chairs. Textured stone walls and floors add an earthy feel, accented by the peach and pumpkin colors of the walls. The dining area is intimate, and most tables can easily seat four. The best tables are the large and comfortable booths, located opposite the restaurant's entrance, and it's where they were being led to.

Wreathed in smiles, Taylor rushed forward from the reserved table to hug both girls. "Girls!" She practically shrieked causing most of the diners to stare at the three hugging girls.

"Hey, Tay!" Gabriella greeted back squeezing the African American girl in a tight hug. "How have you been?"

"I've never felt better. I just got engaged!" She replied in absolute thrill, showing off the square cut diamond engagement ring when they pulled back.

"That's great to see hear, Tay. Congratulations!"

Sharpay voiced her congratulations as well then moved toward their table followed by Taylor and Gabriella. "You just got engaged yet found time to arrange this date. I'm impressed, Taylor!"

"Oh you know me." Taylor said with a flippant shrug of her shoulders followed by a laugh. "Besides you said you needed this date to find a man for the shoot."

"Yes, we do or we're toast." Sharpay confessed. "Where are they anyway? You would think they'd make a good impression by being punctual. Men!"

"Oh they're here already. They actually co-own this place."

Sharpay's brows rise at the piece of information. "Really?"

"Yeah. They just went to the office at the back. We still have two minutes to spare anyway." Taylor explained then turned her attention at Gabriella who was quietly sitting next to Sharpay playing with the napkin on the table. "How about you Gabs? What's up with you lately?"

Gabriella smiled sheepishly debating about what to tell her. Agreeing on this date wasn't really sitting well with her but they do need a man for the shoot. Sighing, she decided to come clean and slowly forced the words out of her mouth. "I -- kinda -- I'm married."

Taylor gasped at this. Her hands flew over her gaping mouth in shock. "Wh—what?! Did I hear her right?" She cast a questioning glance at Sharpay to verify her claim to which the blonde girl nodded. "When did it happen? Why didn't you invite me? Where is your ring? Why did you come on this date?!"

"It's . . . complicated, Taylor."

"Yes." Sharpay reinforced lamely.

"I bet it is or you wouldn't be right here waiting for your date." Taylor averred with a disheartened shake of the head. But Gabriella could tell she was still stunned by the news. "Who's the lucky bastard anyway?"

"That would be me, Taylor."

Three heads looked up at the source of the voice and they all gasped in unison seeing Troy Bolton standing by their table wearing a not too happy expression on his handsome face.

"Oh god!" Gabriella mumbled on a ragged breath immediately looking away from Troy's disagreeable stare directed at her.

"Unbelievable." Sharpay intoned, straight faced.

"You would be what?" Taylor inquired on Troy oblivious to the fact that the reason for her surprise in seeing Troy was completely different from the reason of the other two girls seated across her.

Troy threw a deadly gaze at Chad, who hovered beside him overcome by the same astonishment that Sharpay and Gabriella were exhibiting, before he retorted, "The lucky bastard she married."

Taylor blinked once trying to absorb what Troy said then her hand slapped over her forehead in utter speechlessness; her mouth hung open the entire time that a balled up sock could easily fit in it.

She swung her gaze back and forth at Troy and Gabriella then over at Sharpay and Chad. "You two know each other too?"

"Maid of Honor." Sharpay replied.

"Bestman." Chad rejoined.

"You know, Tay," Sharpay interjected coolly, drawing Taylor's gaze back to her and cutting through the awkwardness of their quandary. "this is one of those blind dates where I'd rather be blind."

"I didn't know!" Taylor clamored defensively flinging both arms in the air. "How was I supposed to know that you're bringing a _married_ Gabriella on this date and Chad here decided to bring Troy who turned out to be the same man married to her! What the hell were you two thinking to come on this date when you're already married?! And what kind of a bestman and maid of honor are you to let them go on this date?!"

All her questions remained unanswered.

With her face contorted in incredulity and a good amount of confusion over some hazy details regarding Troy and Gabriella, Taylor scrambled off the booth slinging her bag over her shoulder, glanced at her watch and announced, "I'm going." She gave them all a final intent look then added, "You settle this -- pickle -- you got yourselves into and don't even think about blaming me because all four of you are at fault here! God--you people are insane!"

Without waiting for Taylor to disappear out of the restaurant, Troy slid inside the booth right across Gabriella and tightly said, "This is not what I call discreet, Montez. You go on a blind date in _my_ restaurant."

Gabriella's initial stun over seeing him was instantly replaced by anger. Her brows jerked together as she spat back, "And you agreed on a blind date in your own restaurant! That's not exercising discretion either, Bolton!"

"Troy!" A man in casual shirt and jeans, about Troy's age and height, called out as he approached their table.

Troy looked up and gave his business partner a tight smile, annoyed at being disrupted. "Joel." He curtly said.

"Sorry to intrude on your little gathering." Joel said apologetically sensing a strange vibe from the group which he assumed was because of his appearance. Chad afforded him a brief nod while Gabriella gave him a look of recognition. "I--uhh--left papers for you to sign. They're important."

"Thanks, Joel." Came Troy's short response.

Knowing when he wasn't wanted, Joel sidled from their booth but not before saying, "Oh, nice to see you again Gabriella." And without waiting for a reply, he left the restaurant the same way Taylor did.

"See that?" Gabriella waved a hand in Joel's direction, anger lacing her voice. "He knows me. What will they think when it turned out I wasn't your date?"

"Taylor chose this place not me. I do not date other women in the places I own."

"You could have declined!"

"So could you!"

Chad chose to interrupt the two, raising his hand like a scared pupil in a classroom. "Actually, Gabriella, I forced him to come." He said as soon as Gabriella looked at him. "He's been faith--"

"Oh don't even bother! I'm sure he wanted to come." Gabriella snapped. "I don't need you to defend him. I know what a player he is."

"You scare me." Chad declared unconsciously inching to the edge of the booth.

Gabriella ignored this and focused back on Troy, the angry flush stealing up her cheeks. "You find the nerve to criticize my decisions when you're the one who laid down the rules on us dating other people."

His blue eyes narrowed. "I said--I do not date other women in my own establishments."

"I do not date period."

Troy refused to believe her claim about not dating, that what she said was just a way to make him feel guilty, that he was an inconsiderate husband, but her unwavering stare and the contempt in her voice told him that she is telling the truth.

"Guys--" Chad interceded again.

"Will you butt out of their business!" Sharpay suddenly scolded Chad, her eyes glaring while Troy and Gabriella continued to argue on one side of the booth.

"Aren't you going to stop them? This will not end well and people are beginning to stare!"

With an apathetic glance over the disputing couple, Sharpay unperturbedly said, "Stop them? Are you kidding me? This is better than television!"

Chad drew back looking at Sharpay like she sprouted another head. "You scare me more than her."

--


	5. Chapter 5 Truce

Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer:_** _Don't own anything._

* * *

Chad couldn't be thankful enough for the arrival of the food merely four minutes after Sharpay decided to order. The waiter had perfect timing in his opinion and if it didn't look weird, he would have hugged the uniformed staff named Charles for serving the delectable array of dishes before the married couple's issues blew up into bigger proportions and ruin not just his day but the restaurant's reputation as well.

Two plates of moderately sized crab cakes were served as a starter dish which effectively cut off the unending argument between Troy and Gabriella. Each plate of crab cake made for an excellent appetizer for two people. And needless to say, Troy and Gabriella will share one plate while Sharpay, looking positively aghast by the idea, gets to share with Chad.

They all began to eat the flavorful and crispy dish in silence. But the married pair would constantly exchange annoyed gazes like four year old kids who were being forced to play nice by their parents.

Troy's carefully constructed façade gave no hint that deep inside, after coming to terms with his wife meeting some guy on a blind date, he is actually quite pleased over the turn out of their situation. Not just for the reason that he's the guy she's supposed to date or that she remained faithful to their marriage despite the agreement to date other people, but because he wants to redeem himself for the ass he's been.

It wasn't just her appearance, even if it does play a key into his decision--wearing a purple sleeveless silk and cotton top over tight jeans that looked so stylish and sexy on her; the gorgeous face with captivating chocolate eyes fringed with curly lashes; her shiny hair that was casually brushed yet still looked elegant; and the proud way she held her own against his whiplash of words--not even because he wanted to end his self imposed celibacy, but because he decided in the last ten minutes of their argument that maybe it would be easier for both of them if they give their arrangement a chance.

And all sexual innuendos aside, he has no explanation for his sudden interest to get to know her. What he does know is that it's the right thing to do as her husband and as the person who benefitted from being married to her. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to develop some sort of friendship with her rather than waste four years pretending that their marriage doesn't exist.

Although, for now, he would be caught dead before he admits that to anyone. And he wasn't really sure how the cogs in her brain works when the matter at hand concerns him.

For her part, behind the exasperation that was mostly directed at her own person for rising to his gibes, Gabriella strived to compose her emotions. It irked her to see that Troy, in a casual pastel blue shirt with dark low riding jeans, remains his cool and calm self whilst arguing with her whereas she already had steam seeping out of her nose and ears and probably looking like a bull ready to attack.

And those damn mesmerizing eyes of his that unwaveringly held her gaze made it even harder for her to get a grip on her temper. It should be a sin to have those eyes. It's distracting!

_Damn him for being so handsome and arrogant and calm!_

She slowly exhaled a pent up breath and lowered her eyes since it's the only way to get her mind thinking rationally again.

As far as she could recall, between herself and Sharpay, she had always been the calm one. She wasn't easily fazed by troublesome people, unlike her friend who tends to overreact and blow up in a snap. But from where she was sitting, it would seem like their roles were suddenly reversed.

Sharpay is as cool as a potentate and she was effectively keeping Chad in his place with her icy glares. _Why can't she handle Troy like that? _How hard can it be to control a guy especially when said guy is your husband?

She had to admit she's never been an expert in the male species having only two boyfriends in the past to base her experience on but even her exes weren't as difficult as Troy.

He has this effect on her that she couldn't quite put a finger on. It is a strange feeling of attraction. But the more she fought against it, reminding herself time and time again that he's nothing to her; that apathy is the only emotion she should feel for him; and that he's simply an instrument to prevent Marissa from robbing her of the inheritance, the harder it is to brush off.

By the time the waiter cleared away the appetizer plates and served the entrees of mesquite grilled surf and turf, sashimi grade ahi tuna, classic ceasar salad and rib eye steak topped with grilled oyster mushrooms, Gabriella had cooled her temper considerably.

She drew in a steadying air, lifted her eyes back at him and said, "Troy, this is getting us nowhere. Taylor is right. We are all at fault here."

She was correct of course. Troy knew that and he is thankful that she's making an effort on being civil with him now. "Yeah." He concurred. "This is counterproductive. Let's just get on with this date like how a date should be."

"Can we at least be polite with each other? Like mature adults?" She asked him then eyed Sharpay. "And I mean all four of us, Sharpay."

"Fine." Sharpay heaved with her trademark eye roll.

Troy nodded with a smile . . . nothing to big or too bright that it would've looked fake. It was just the right smile for their truce.

"Thank goodness!" Chad tooted.

Gabriella giggled at the relief in Chad's tone; the infectious sound carried around their table making Chad laugh and even caused Sharpay to smile. Troy was delighted to hear the humor in her giggle, as a result he found himself joining in the hilarity of their situation.

He waited a moment for their mirth to subside, then addressed Gabriella, "Is this your first time here in Spark?"

"Yes . . . I think it's a fantastic place and so far the food is great." She replied sincerely. "I'm excited for dessert though."

"If you like chocolate, Gabs, you will enjoy the chocolate mousse here." Chad said quickly easing into a comfortable conversation with her. "It's heavenly."

"You sound so gay!" Sharpay exclaimed.

"Hey!" Chad objected with a frown.

But Sharpay being Sharpay wasn't to be daunted. "When a guy says _it's heavenly _and he's not referring to a girl . . . that's a red flag right there."

Troy chuckled but he opted to out himself from his best friend's _problem _with Sharpay. He wanted to focus on Gabriella right now who was currently shaking her head at their bickering friends.

"I'm curious . . ." He began tentatively letting the phrase hang to catch her attention.

She took the bait, eyeing him skeptically. "About what?"

"You said you do not date. Why did you agree to this one? What's so important about this blind date?"

She smiled sheepishly and her eyes gained a playful glint in them. "Well . . . Sharpay thought it's a good way to find a man."

Troy slightly tensed at this. "For . . . whom?" He asked uncertainly.

"For the shoot."

His brows knitted in perplexity. He was expecting her to say either for Sharpay or worse, for her. "Shoot?"

Gabriella bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing at his baffled face. "I photograph people for a living. And my clientele are mostly from the fashion industry." She elucidated. "I'm doing a shoot for Gucci for Elle magazine. The male model didn't show -- so we've _needed_ a man since nine o'clock this morning."

"Geez, that is serious!" He affirmed with sham gravity his eyes turning into an engaging shade of blue and a charming smile curved his lips. "Maybe I can help you look for this man. I have some friends who can be poster guys. What are you looking for exactly?"

"You'll do that?"

"Sure."

"That's great!" Sharpay cut in before Gabriella could form a reply and she vigorously began talking like Troy is a long time peer of hers. "I didn't think you'd have that many guy friends considering your _extra friendliness with the ladies_ but we'll take whatever you give us--except him." She pointed at Chad who was instantly affronted. "We're desperate to make the deadline but not that desperate. And in case you're wondering, I'm in charge of Gucci's PR that's why I'm involved in this. Gabs, tell him what kind of guy you need."

Troy was slightly taken aback by Sharpay's forwardness and her ability to slur both him and Chad while accepting his offer of help but he did not comment on it. Instead, he shifted his gaze at Gabriella and quirked a brow at her, mutely telling her to describe the guy she needed.

"Well . . . he has to be handsome." She began haltingly smiling at the interested faces of Troy and Chad then continued on, "He has to be honed enough to look good in a suit. He has to be muscular but not too much. We don't want him looking like a wrestler and I think, with wheat colored hair and blue eyes or..."

She trailed off abruptly her eyes growing into big round orbs as Sharpay unexpectedly gasped out loud. They faced each other like crazed fan girls who saw a favorite celebrity that they were planning to mob. They nodded in unison and clapped hands in a hi-five.

Not only did they bewilder Troy and Chad who were eyeing them skeptically but they also alarmed them with the eccentric behavior they were exhibiting. "Will anyone care to explain?" Chad voiced out a bit hesitantly, probably for fear of being snapped at again by Sharpay.

"I love you guys!" Sharpay exclaimed with exhilaration then dug into her bag for her cell phone.

Troy's lips twitched but his face remained placid. "Wow."

"You do?" Chad asked guardedly looking at Sharpay like she should be institutionalized for her erratic moods. "Why?"

"What she means is," Gabriella clarified with a smirk. "Troy gets to pose for me. _You're the man!_"

* * *

She waited patiently as the stylist attended on Troy. She honestly didn't know what to expect of him. He was a little unnerved by the idea of him self modeling the apparel but after a bit of swaying from Sharpay, he finally relented.

They drove back to the studio in Troy's car in companionable silence interrupted only with a few road directions she mentioned. Sharpay declined coming to the studio saying she had an appointment at the spa but promised to check with them later and Chad begged off on account of another date he was going to.

"He's ready, Gabs." Dee, the stylist and the only staff she required to come on short notice, called out from the dressing room door adjacent to the set where the shoot will be taken. "You will be pleased. Your husband is yummy! No wonder you kept him from us all these time."

She rolled her eyes. Most male models are described yummy by Dee and the rest of the female staff in the studio. But for Gabriella the thrilling experience of working with gorgeous men and women had worn off after the first month of her professional career. Nothing really surprises her anymore behind the lens. "Just let him come out, Dee."

But when Troy stepped from behind the excited stylist, Gabriella had to tell her self to suck in some air and cool down the sudden warm flush that was rising to her cheeks.

He wore a gray suit with black lining detail, white shirt and black pants that he filled out beautifully from the chest and arms down to the legs. His slightly wavy strands of hair were swept about his ears, temples and forehead in engaging disarray. He had an effortless look that is a cross between being manly and boyish. And Gabriella knew Dee took advantage of this when she styled him.

_He's yummy alright._ She thought, giving Dee a fleeting look that says she agrees with her assessment.

She certainly wasn't expecting this. Troy had more than looks, more than bone structure, effervescent skin and come-hither eyes . . . he has charisma. It was the kind photographers search for but rarely come across. In her opinion, he is perfect!

Realizing she had been staring with her mouth agape like a drooling idiot, she smiled at him animatedly, pacing back and forth as she motioned for him to step into the camera frame and sit on the eighteenth century looking chair that was positioned next to an equally archaic wooden cabinet.

He obliged without question, smiling back at her. "Troy, will you do something for me?" She asked.

"Name it."

"Sit still, hunch forward just a little and lean your elbows on your thigh close to your knee." She instructed already switching to her professional mode. "Don't smile. I want the serious look."

"Okay . . ." He answered, following her. This day is turning out rather well for him and he has no intention of screwing it over with a dumb ass remark or attitude.

"Not angry—just serious."

Gabriella shot him a critical look, tipping her head on one side to study his pose. "That's perfect." She said then abruptly lowered her height to level with his. She lifted her pinkie between his brow and forehead to move his hair from creating a shadow over his striking eyes.

Troy was taken aback by the nearness of her face to his. He didn't know if she realized it but their lips were at an easy kissing distance. He wondered how she'll react if he just went ahead and kiss her.

_Annoyed, for sure._ The voice in his head answered.

Carefully he swallowed, trying to blot out her closeness, her sweet scent and the misplaced thoughts of kissing a photographer at work.

"You're good at this." He complimented to divert his not so platonic thoughts, staring straight into her eyes.

She finally glanced at him, grinned, squared her shoulders and stood up to her full height. "Thanks but I'm sure you haven't seen my work yet. You can compliment me again later after we're done."

He laughed nicely, leaning back on the chair and loosing the pose. "Sure! I'm getting paid for this, aren't I?"

"Oh, that depends on how your photos will come out. So you'd better be good." She warned teasingly. "And please go back to your pose. Stay still."

He eyed the upward tilt of her lips as she mocked him. When she smiled, her eyes smiled with her mouth and again the urge to press his lips against hers re-emerged. "Oops. Sorry." He amended posing back.

"Gabs, I'm out! Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Bolton." Dee hollered on her way out of the room as Gabriella walked off the set and was about to begin shooting Troy. "Enjoy your selves alone. Be productive--if you get my drift!"

"Shoo! Just go." Gabriella waved her off, slightly flustered by the insinuation. "Thanks for coming, Dee."

Dee bade goodbye and vanished through the door. "Okay, here we go, Troy. Ready?" She asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

"You should go. The photos will take some time to finish." Gabriella suggested hours after they were done with the shoot and both were seated on two over padded divans facing each other.

After she had taken pictures of Troy in two more clothing designs, he wandered around the studio and seems to have taken interest in asking questions about stuff related to her work or about the use of certain equipments while she worked into preparing the photos for developing. And there were many shots since he was surprisingly a natural with posing in front of the camera, only requiring little or no guidance.

"I'm not waiting for the photos." He said. "I'm waiting for you."

She was a little flustered by his piercing gaze but she kept her eyes on him. "You don't have to do that. I can grab a cab home or stay here tonight. I always do anyway."

"No." He avowed with finality. "I'll wait."

Gabriella was inexplicably pleased by his insistence and she felt herself nod in consent. It was weird having him around while she works but she would be lying to say that she isn't glad for his company.

He's quick witted, funny, companionable and attentive. He proved himself to be more than the arrogant bastard she knew when they first got married. And she wasn't only enjoying herself with this new side of him but she was slowly falling under the magnetism of his good looks.

"Thanks." She mumbled then averted her eyes suddenly ill at ease.

She heard him chuckle softly before he stated, "Does Sharpay decide on my payment?"

"Yes." Gabriella looked back at him. He couldn't possibly want payment this instant. He's not exactly a person in dire need of money. "Why?"

In answer, he languidly arose from the divan, paced forward two steps to get to her and bent over a startled Gabriella, leaning his hands on the armrest of the seat she occupied. His face was so close to her that their noses were almost touching.

"I will have to collect payment now." He averred huskily then without delay moved his arms, scooping Gabriella off her seat giving her no time to react.

He stepped back and plunked down on his divan once again with Gabriella on his lap. "Troy . . ." She said a little disoriented from the immediate change in position and the sudden rise of temperature surrounding them. "I--we . . ."

"Remember when I said I liked kissing you . . ." He whispered running a hand over her back and arms in a gentle caress that was meant to sway her.

If his words weren't obvious enough, there was also no mistaking the intent in his eyes as he held her firmly in place. Gabriella was captivated by the hoarse timbre of his voice and the feel of his rough hands on her skin. "Y—yes."

"I still want to." He said then straight away claimed her lips for a kiss.

Gabriella is aware she's threading on shaky ground and she knows once she gives in, it will be difficult to pull back. But how could she deny his compelling lips or her own desire to kiss him? His magnetism was overpowering everything she believed to be sensible at the moment; her thoughts going haywire at the first brush of his lips.

In a heartbeat, she kissed back; slow and hesitant at first as they grazed their lips against the other, reorienting with the feel of it. Her hands went around his neck and rested there gently playing with the ends of his hair.

For Troy it was six months overdue. It was enlivening to be able to kiss her again. He struggled to control his craving of her lest his fervor scares her. But it was hard especially for someone who has been two months celibate and having unfulfilled sexual fantasies of the same girl that was on his lap and kissing him back.

Gabriella sensed the gradual change in his kiss as the seconds ticked past. The tenderness was gone as his mouth enticed hers, his tongue flicked at the crease and slid over her bottom lip asking for entrance.

She gave it without a qualm opening her mouth and matching the urgency of his kiss. He tormented her with hard, demanding kisses as their tongues dueled endlessly. His hands roamed her sides, back and arms at an impatient pace, lifting one of her leg over the other side of the divan so that she was now straddling him. Then his hands slid inside her blouse connecting with her flat stomach as it inched up over her ribs.

They pulled back slightly for much needed air, enough for Troy to take her top off tossing it carelessly on the floor while she did the same to his shirt. The next moment he reached around her body to unclasp the black bra and took hold of her freed breasts, kneading them slowly with his palms.

His lips rested by her ear kissing it, making her shiver in delight. It trailed leisurely down her neck nipping at the smooth column then over her aching breast until it latched hard on her nipples.

The cry that had been lodged in Gabriella's throat erupted as she arched her back and held his head pressed up to her body. He took his time alternately kissing the sensitized nub while Gabriella's body fired up.

She was heady with pleasure and she could feel herself getting wet as his confined erection grew from under her. He is aroused as hell and so is she. They continued making out on the divan fervently, unmindful of the beeping sound of the photo machine.

Nothing else mattered to Gabriella. She forgot everything. She could only see, hear and feel Troy and she responded to him without reservation. And it was undoubtedly arousing him even more.

In a bold move, as their mouths fused ardently, his hand traced the waistband of her jeans and snapped open the button. It suddenly wasn't enough to see her topless, he wanted to touch her core as well . . . just like in his dreams.

But as he slid down the zipper of her jeans the loud banging of metal doors echoed inside the room they were in, followed by the familiar voice of Sharpay yelling, "Gabs! Aren't you done with Bolton yet?"

They immediately stopped.

She was done alright. She was done with the cloud of passion that fogged her brain. "Troy let go!" She hissed, frantically looking around from her straddled position for her bra and top. "Come on! She can't see us like this."

His eyes glinted at her like a dark blue spark, one arm firmly circled around her waist. Clearly, he's still under the spell of lust. He wasn't letting her get off his lap. "Why not? This is a perfectly normal position for couples." He argued.

She gawked at his nonchalance. "Are you crazy?! We're half naked!"

He bent sideways without letting her up and grabbed the items of clothing on the floor. "Here."

They managed to put on their clothes just in time as Sharpay strode past the door and immediately stopped dead in her tracks when she saw them on the divan. Gabriella was straddling Troy, her lips swollen, and she looked flushed. Troy was no different except his hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes still had a hazy glimmer in them.

"Well, well, well . . . looks like Mr. and Mrs. We-Hate-Each-Other-So-Much got past the hatin' and jumped on to some frisky lovin'." She said in an all knowing tone, crossing her arms to her chest and quirking one perfectly shaped brow. "I hope other than this you two at least got some work done."

"Yes." They answered at the same time which made Sharpay smirk widely. Gabriella groaned in embarrassment and impulsively buried her face in the crook of Troy's neck while he cradled the back of her head with his hand.

"I never thought I'd say this but _this Sunday_ is by far the most entertaining one I've ever had!" Sharpay announced with a roguish laugh then whirled around, her laughter resonating inside the room behind her wake as she finally left them be.

"I hate you." Gabriella muttered morosely at his neck.

Troy smiled, stroking her hair. "Of course you do." He agreed gamely sliding down the strap of her blouse and kissing her exposed shoulder. "But we should get back to _frisky lovin'_. . ."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6 Stop and Think

Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer:** As usual . . . don't own anything._

* * *

"So what went down with you and Bolton?" Sharpay asked as soon as Gabriella answered the call.

Gabriella tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, clutched the heavy binder filled with photos with both hands and used her hip to close the car door. "This is the third time you asked! Will you please give it a rest?"

"And what? Forget what I saw last night? No freakin' way!" Sharpay said in a winded up tone. "You went bang-bang with him after I left, didn't you?"

Gabriella groaned as she began climbing up the stairs to the east wing, nodding a brief greeting at one of the servants in the house. "No! We just . . . made out."

"What the hell are you high school?!" She shrieked that had Gabriella wincing at the sound. "Just admit it, Gabs. I won't say I told you so . . . promise."

She adjusted the binder over her right hip and held the phone with the other hand. "Why do I get this feeling you are disappointed we didn't have sex?"

"You were both hot and bothered when I saw you! It's Bolton we're talking about here. I don't believe he'll be _well served_ with a simple stroll in the park. Of course he'll want to ride the swing!"

"Well, we didn't!" Gabriella said as she finally reached her room, placed the binder on the working table and threw her self down on the bed. It has been a long and exhausting day shooting on location in the outskirts of L.A. She could really use bath right now.

But Sharpay wasn't planning on ending the call just yet. "Man! It must have been extremely painful for him." She snickered. "But—I know you're not the jump 'em and do 'em kinda' girl, Gabs—he's your husband though. Why'd you stop it from going further? And don't tell me you didn't like it because I _will not_ believe you."

Gabriella stared at the ceiling taking time to process the question. It wasn't that she didn't like Troy touching her. God knows she craves his touch. And not even her exes have been able to elicit a strong reaction from her with a simple kiss, unlike Troy. The effect of Troy's touch drives her senseless and whatever self-possession she has instantly flies out the window at the first brush of his lips. _So why did she stop it?_

"Gabriella? You still with me?"

"Yeah. Uhh—it was too fast." She avowed with a sigh.

There was silence at Sharpay's end then Gabriella heard her sigh as well. Sharpay intuitively knows what prompted her best friend's decision. "Did you tell him that?"

"No. I just said we should stop."

"He accepted that? He didn't ask?"

"He—" Gabriella slightly frowned remembering Troy's reaction. "He just stared at me for a very long time and slowly nodded. No questions asked."

"Talk about awkward. I'm surprised he didn't leave you there after that."

"That's the thing, Shar. He still stayed to wait for me. I kept telling him it was okay for him to just leave."

"That's kinda'…nice of him." Sharpay conveyed with surprise. "So did anything change between you and him in the last 24-hours after the make out?"

"We haven't seen each other since we went on opposite wings of this house last night." Gabriella admitted, again feeling bad for giving no explanation to Troy whatsoever. "And I was busy today."

"Who isn't?! Today is Monday. Everybody is busy."

"I should talk to him." Gabriella stated more as a question.

"If I were you, I would. I'm not exactly going Pro-Bolton here but with the way he acted after you stopped him, he at least deserves it, don't you think?" Sharpay voiced out reasonably.

"Yes, he does." Gabriella admitted softly. "Remember Todd back in junior college? He wasn't exactly cordial when I told him I wasn't ready to have sex with him. He was furious with me. Funny thing is, Todd said he loves me…so I hoped he would understand. But he never did."

"But Bolton did understand…or whatever you call it…even when you gave no reason and I'm sure love isn't on his mind when he accepted your decision."

"Maybe he isn't as bad as we made him out to be."

"Well…you have enough time—four years and a half actually—to find out."

"Crap! I keep forgetting I'm married." Gabriella grunted as she heard Sharpay laugh.

"It happens—you know, so I've been told by other married people."

"Yeah right! Listen, Shar, I badly need a shower. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Bye."

Gabriella sprung out of bed immediately after Sharpay hung up. She carelessly tossed the phone on the bed and began undressing. She was sticky and stinky and gross from being outside too long.

Since last year, she's been getting many offers to do photo shoots for some important personas in the fashion world and the concept for these shoots gets weirder and crazier each time. Location shoots are always a pain, probably her least favorite but she loves photography and she can't argue with the fact that it does pay well.

Sighing, she stepped inside the shower and let the water run down her aching muscles. Then after a few minutes of enjoying the warmth of the spray, she went on to cleaning her self.

Setting aside her work concerns, Gabriella let her mind drift back to Troy. She hasn't been able to remove him from her head since last night. The whole day at work thoughts of him…the hours she spent with him yesterday doing the shoot, his charming personality and his ability to kiss her senseless…lingered at the back of her mind.

She tried to rationalize it by thinking that it's because although they parted amicably last night, she didn't exactly try to let him know why she stopped the make out session when it was quite obvious she wanted the intimacy as much as he did.

If she were in his shoe, she would want an explanation for sure. She feels guilty. That's all there is to it. Once she gets her chance to talk to him, her head will surely forget their little episode in the studio and her mind won't be bothered by thoughts of Troy. _Easy as pie, right? _Well, at least she hopes so.

By the time she finished with her shower and was getting into a lime cotton smock dress, Gabriella decided to wait out for Troy downstairs and talk to him before the night is over. She picked up her phone on the bed, checked the time that registered 7 PM and went out to head to the kitchen first.

She was mentally rehearsing what she will say to Troy while she grabbed a cup of yogurt in the fridge and the pack of gummy bears sitting next to the cookie jar and bringing them to the center counter of the kitchen for a light snack.

Unaware that a pair of amused blue eyes is watching from the kitchen entry, Gabriella opened the yogurt and mixed a handful of gummy bears in them then spooned the mixture into her mouth.

She nearly choked on the gummies she was chewing when Troy's laugh cut through the silence of the kitchen and languidly strode inside to sit on the stool next to her. She covered her mouth with her hand and began chomping on the remaining gummies as fast as she can.

She wasn't expecting him to find her. But it's probably better like this since she won't have to wait any longer to talk to him and even if it's a little embarrassing being seen with your mouth full of gummy candies, she'll take it if only to let Troy's agreeable disposition continue.

Peering over the cup of yogurt, Troy scrunched his nose at her choice of snack and continued to chuckle. "You're cute." He said, reaching a hand to wipe off with his thumb the small splotch of yogurt at the corner of her lip. "And a little bit messy too."

Finally swallowing, she pouted at his amused face and objected, "I'm not messy! You surprised me so the yogurt spilled out a bit."

"Or your mouth is stuffed with this weird combination that's why!"

"Want some?" She offered a spoonful to him, smiling widely.

Leaning away slightly, Troy shook his head vigorously. "Thanks but I just ate. No more space here." He replied tapping his stomach over the black shirt he was wearing.

It was Gabriella's turn to laugh at the disgust in Troy's face. "That's too bad. This is delicious stuff and healthy too."

"You sound like a sales rep."

"Obviously not a very good one since I can't convince you to try this." She shot back to continue the light banter, taking a manageable portion of the yogurt into her mouth. But she was keenly waiting for an opening to broach the subject of last night to him.

"Are you crazy? _That—" _He retorted pointing at the yogurt like it's deadly. "will probably ruin my mood."

That was exactly the opening Gabriella needed and she immediately seized the chance. "You're in a good mood then?"

"Why wouldn't I be? And watching you eat this shit buoyed me up more."

Trying to keep her smile, Gabriella pushed the cup of yogurt to the other side, leaned against the counter and said, "I just thought you'd be in a bad mood after last night…"

He fell silent abruptly and the amusement on his handsome face was replaced by a grave look. He didn't look angry Gabriella observed which is good because she really didn't want to fight with him. He leaned on the counter as well so that their elbows were touching and glanced at her, waiting for her to begin talking.

"Troy…I don't know what came over me after Sharpay left but I sort of felt…" Gabriella tried gathering her wits under his penetrating gaze. It's like he is looking straight into her soul trying to see if she's telling the truth. She felt uneasy. He is making her nervous when she doesn't have any reason to be. She shook off the nervousness and forced her mind to focus. When she couldn't find a proper word to use, she said instead, "I—I like kissing you. I won't deny that. You obviously know this. But…last night happened a bit too fast—"

His eyes narrowed and when he spoke there was a note of exasperation in his voice. "Gabriella, we were married before knowing each other. We kissed on our wedding night right after an argument and we both know it wasn't a simple kiss. If Chad hadn't called me that night, I'm sure we would've ended up having our honeymoon and enjoying it too. So when you say _fast_, what exactly do you mean?"

Telling her self to stay calm once again and concentrate on getting her reasons across, she plunged on, "I mean, maybe we should try to get to know each other before anything else. We will be in this marriage for four more years, Troy. This is not a casual romp in the park."

She was silently hoping he would understand her sentiments because in all sincerity she really wants to befriend him and at least make the remaining four years of their marriage worthwhile. "That maybe true for you since you're a guy but not for me. I'm not like the other girls you date…or whatever you call them." She paused trying to read his facial expression. When she couldn't, she added, "I'd rather go back to pretending I'm single than have a relationship that revolves around fighting then making out."

Troy stayed mute even after she was done talking. For a brief second, she looked expectantly at him waiting for a reaction then closed her eyes with a heavy sigh and returned her attention back on the unfinished cup of yogurt. Who was she kidding? He will never understand that she wants to have her dignity intact after their marriage is over. All he wants is to be able to excercise his right to fuck her and for him to do that without forcing himself on her, he's hell bent on playing the nice guy act. Well, at least she said her piece already. Whether he accepts it or not is entirely up to him.

He took everything she said to heart. She was right again of course. Their relationship via the arranged marriage is based upon _nothing _and when all of it is over he will walk away unscathed while she will have lost more than time. Between the two of them, she is the aggrieved party so to speak. She's only trying to protect her self, her values, and rightfully so.

He is so strung with sexual tension that he forgets the fact she's not one of his flings. The independent, strong willed, intelligent and gorgeous girl that is sitting next to him has his last name. And looking at her right now, with her hopeful brown eyes fleetingly gazing back at his, a small seed of pride and admiration took root inside him.

After Julie, he has treated women with the same aloof attitude…never getting too attached or too involved in their lives. He chooses them based on sexual attraction alone. In short, he never lets any girl get close enough to have even the slightest effect on him. If anyone dares to cross the line, he dumps them like yesterdays garbage. It's his rule. He's determined not to repeat the same foolishness he did with Julie.

But with Gabriella…maybe because she's his wife and like it or not he's obligated by law to stick by her for five years as per her father's will…he's surprisingly willing to bend the rules he set on himself regarding relationships with the opposite sex. And last night, when he didn't leave her after being denied satisfaction...which as far as he could remember never happened to him before, was proof of that.

Making up his mind, Troy straightened and whirled sideways on the stool so that he was facing her. He has nothing to loose by befriending her and if he plays his cards right, he might even get to consummate their marriage. "Let's start over, shall we?" He said congenially.

"What do you mean?" Gabriella hesitantly asked also swinging sideways to face him, finding his sudden change in demeanor strange. She was expecting something close to ire after that speech she just gave.

With a lopsided grin, he extended a hand for her to shake and said, "Hi, I'm Troy Bolton."

Gabriella couldn't help the bubble of laughter from escaping her lips. She gladly clasped his hand and shook it good naturedly. "Hi Troy! I'm Gabriella Montez—I mean, Bolton. Gabriella Bolton."

"Good save." He winked playfully but did not let go of her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Gabi. Is it okay if I call you that? Gabriella is a bit too long."

"Yes, Gabi is good." She answered. Liking how the name rolls smoothly from his mouth.

"So Gabi, in the spirit of getting to know each other, would you like to go out with me tonight?"

"Go out with you? Like a date?" She said pretending to be coy while ignoring the jolt of electricity from their joined hands.

He continued to stroke her hand with his thumb. "Like a date."

"May I know where this date will be?"

"Does that mean you'll go?"

"Maybe…"

Gabriella was cut short by Troy's ringing phone that he placed earlier on the counter top. They both looked at it and then back at each other. "Aren't you gonna' take that?" She asked when he made no move to answer the caller.

"It's just Chad."

"It's probably important."

He exhaled noisily like he was being forced to do a tedious task but picked the call anyway. "What?" He spoke into the phone a little curtly.

They were still holding hands even as Troy talked with Chad and Gabriella herself made no move to withdraw her own hand from his grasp but she did feel discomfited sitting there hearing the conversation between the two.

She eased her hand so that she can leave to give them some privacy but Troy tightened his grip on it. "Talk to Gabi. I'll come only when she wants to." He said to Chad then handed the phone to her.

"Who the hell is Gabi?!" Gabriella heard Chad's query before she spoke, "Hey Chad!"

"Gabs?! Troy called you Gabi?" Chad echoed, flabbergasted. "He gave you a nickname!"

"Yes! It's a shocker, isn't it?" She affirmed, suppressing a giggle.

"Hell yeah! He doesn't give girls nicknames coz' half the time he doesn't even bother with their real names." Chad revealed. "But anyway, you should come with Troy. I'm having a house warming party at this new beach front property. It's supposed to be next week but I figured what the hell! Now is as good as any. So what do you say, Mrs. Bolton?"

Her gaze lingered on Troy as he continued to stroke her hand. She fought against the tingling feeling of his warm hand to tell Chad, "Sure. We'll be there."

Troy smiled as she handed back the phone and said. "We'll have to wear our rings for this date, Gabi."

"Not a problem. I have mine with me." She pulled her necklace from inside the neckline of the dress to show the ring hanging as a pendant on the chain. "Do you have yours?"

Instead of answering, Troy pulled his wallet from his pants back pocket and took the platinum band out of it for her to see. "It's always here."

* * *

Chad's new property has a stellar view of the beach and the house in itself is a wonderfully huge off white structure in the heart of the bay area. It has three floor levels, cobblestone steps lined with an assortment of palm trees and some flowering plants and a white wood fence that goes around the entire property.

But when Troy and Gabriella arrived, they were shocked to see the party already in full swing. They were led by the huge afro head of Chad, sidling and elbowing their way into the throng of guests, over to the second floor level where the elegantly furnished living room, dining room and a custom built kitchen of granite and steel were located.

There were a lesser number of people on the second floor but the air still felt congested with the familiar scent of alcohol, cigarette smoke and the blasting music coming from the first floor sound system. The scene reminded Gabriella of college parties that get busted by the cops. It was not what she imagined to see when Chad invited her.

"Chad! What the hell man?! I thought you said this is a party with friends?" Troy clamored over the sound of the loud music keeping a firm grip on Gabriella's waist lest she gets swallowed by the sea of humanity in Chad's house. "Do you even know half these people?!"

"I didn't know word got out. They invited themselves here. They came by the dozen bringing their own music and speakers and food! I was outnumbered!" Chad frantically said waving both arms in the air. " I swear, man!"

Seeing the dark scowl on Troy's face, Gabriella interrupted before the two get into a spat. "Chad, don't worry about us. We'll manage. You should get back to your...uhh...guests."

"Thanks Gabs. Troy, I know you wanted to introduce Gabs to our friends but..." Chad winced as he heard a crash downstairs. "I'm really sorry!" He amended and quickly sprinted to check on the commotion.

Troy shook his head at Chad's retreating back and pulled Gabriella in the opposite direction to the sliding glass doors leading to a balcony with a spiral staircase going up to the rooftop.

"Come on. Let's stay up there. I think it's quieter." He answered to her quizzical eyes. "We can talk better and I'm not really in the mood to mingle with strangers."

Gabriella nodded and followed him up the metal steps still reeling from what Chad said about Troy wanting to acquaint her with friends of his. She shook the feeling off and reminded herself that he is only being nice to get into her pants sooner.

They were greeted by the fresh breeze coming from the beach as they stepped into the unused rooftop deck that had tables, chairs, a chaise and a blue pool table.

"Wow! This is nice." She said, walking past Troy to rest on the chaise facing the beach area. She removed her sandals and stretched her legs out in front of her inhaling the beach air.

Realizing that Troy was just standing there watching her, Gabriella furled back her legs and tapped the now empty space of the chaise motioning him to sit by her.

He complied, intently studying her face and the artless cascade of her brunette curls that seemed to glow from the illumination of the yellow lights at the corners of the rooftop. "You're so beautiful." He suddenly said almost in awe which stupefied Gabriella.

She blinked and promptly blushed at the compliment but quickly covered it up with a deprecating remark directed at her self. "You wouldn't have said that when I was in high school." She said. "I'm part of the nerdy bunch. I was chubby and a klutz too. Jocks used to pick on the likes of me and from where I'm sitting I'd say you were a jock then."

Troy grinned. If what she's saying is true, she's way past that phase now. In his view, time and nature did a wonderful job with her physical maturity. Whatever traces of insecurity she might have had then is now replaced by cool poise and innate allure that any guy will find attractive.

With an effort, Troy resisted the urge to pull her into his embrace and kiss her shy smile. "Don't tell anyone but I was the jock who likes nerds." He confided in jest. "Nerds know stuff that can blow your mind."

She lightly slapped his arm not missing the sexual allusion in his retort. "Ugh! Your mind is so—gutter! I won't be shocked to know you have a sexual offense record somewhere."

"It's the other way around. I'm always the victim. Girls just can't get enough of me."

"God, I'm married to a swaggering man whore!" She moaned in consternation and slumped back on the chaise pretending to be thoroughly distressed.

Troy couldn't help but laugh at how cute she was being. Although he resolved to make an effort to get to know her, he didn't expect to actually enjoy her company for the reason that he wouldn't be able to be intimate with her like the other night. The time he spends with girls usually didn't involve much talk. Surprisingly with Gabriella, he's not bored—but the desire to be bodily close is still clamoring in his veins. And it didn't help that she looks absolutely fetching in the lime green dress with her legs primly tucked under her.

"So is there anything else that you want to know about me aside from what you already assumed?" He asked to keep his mind away from distracting thoughts of what is underneath her dress.

Tipping her head back on the chaise, she gazed up the dark sky, thinking of a good question to start with. She sat up straight after a minute and hesitantly asked, "Why did you marry me, Troy?"

Startled by her serious choice of query, Troy saw the solemn look in her eyes—like whatever answer he gives will placate the curiousity in her head. He opted to be honest with her. "Because by marrying you my family's business with be gaining more than stocks and funds but properties as well that is beneficial to the company's growth." He said simply. "It's your reasons I want to hear. I know its part of your father's will. But what are you getting out of this marriage?"

Peering at him, Gabriella matched the blunt honesty of his reply. "Assurance. Assurance that Marissa will not get her greedy paws on my inheritance because I'm married to you."

"But she's your mother—"

"Stepmother. My mom died on a driving accident when I was fifteen." She clarified with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry." He sincerely said and for the second time in mere minutes he had to fight the temptation of reaching out to touch her.

She shrugged dismissively but looked away staring back at the sky. When it seem like she wasn't about to say anything more, Troy said, "So Marissa chose me—she has good taste then."

She shot him a glare and wryly averred, "Oh yes, she has good taste in _full of yourself_ guys! It's your parents that made an excellent choice in me."

Troy cracked up at her attempt at cockiness and yanked her into an embrace. Laughing, he buried his face in her glorious hair, unable to hold back his wanting to be physically close to her. "My arrogance has rubbed off on you, Gabi." He whispered.

Leaning away from his arms to cover up the shiver that ran through her body, she jeered, "And you finally admit you're arrogant! Thank you!"

"I admit it only to you." He proclaimed with a boyish grin.

"Oh no! That means I will have to get used to this egotism for four years!" She whined, teasing.

Troy gazed at her lovely face, the teasing light in her eyes and her tempting mouth, and pulled her back in his embrace. "This is harder than I thought."

Gabriella tensed at the bump of delight when his muscular arms circled her body and his hand stroked her back. But she couldn't make herself draw back from his hold. Her body acquires a mind of its own whenever Troy is this close to her. "Which part?"

He rubbed his jaw against her soft curls and murmured, "The keeping myself from kissing you senseless part."

For lack of a better comeback, Gabriella stayed quiet in his arms—unresisting but not responsive either. She hoped he would understand that she needs to stick by her stand to get to know him first before she reconsiders any of that closeness—even if she also wants it as much as he does. _Fuck! This is hard._

_

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! You're all awesome. **_


	7. Chapter 7 Firsts

Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . . _

* * *

In the eleven days following Chad's beach house party, both Troy and Gabriella were busy with their respective work. They haven't seen much of each other and when they do, it was always short and hurried as one or the other is rushing off somewhere that was work related. Even their occasional phone calls to each other lasted no longer than five minutes.

Gabriella was booked on a shoot for an upcoming issue of a major magazine and there were several models to photograph in various designer labels and set concepts but with very little time on her hands. Almost all kinds of delays—from the models being a pain, the wrong props, schedule conflicts and even equipment breakdown—were encountered. She was cramming to get photos submitted for approval by the creative team of the magazine.

Her stress level ran high. She spent longer hours in the studio than usual even sleeping there most nights, coming to the mansion only when she needs a fresh batch of clothes.

Troy, on the other hand, spent most of the week at the site of the new restaurant Reiss Corporation is constructing. He met up with city engineers, architects, potential suppliers and employment agencies. He was personally overseeing the progress of the construction and at the same time making sure the future operations of the restaurant will be according to his plans. He has his hands full with details and sometimes mishaps that veer away from their target schedule.

He would come to the mansion very late at night or in the very early hours of the morning after having been in meetings with the marketing department of Reiss and once with the board when he was asked for an update on the project.

To say he is exhausted would be an understatement. The lure of his bed for reasons of catching up on sleep has never been more tempting. And by the end of nearly two weeks, he was dead set on just lazing around and not thinking about the restaurant.

Friday, he woke up at exactly ten in the morning and felt less crappy than the past days. He told his secretary yesterday to cancel all his meetings and appointments for the day. So he has time to spend for himself … and with Gabriella.

He chuckled softly at the direction of his thoughts as he got up to go to the bathroom. He's slowly getting used to the idea of having Gabriella around, especially in his head. And truthfully, she's a pleasant thought to have.

The phone calls they had over the past days were ones he looked forward to and most of the time it was him who calls her. He couldn't seem to stop himself from dialing her number which he already has on speed dial and hearing that sweet voice of hers to perk up his mood.

Their conversations were mostly casual greetings, asking what the other is doing, teasing or jokes here and there, sometimes subtle flirting but basically it was nothing significant. Yet he likes it—whether it's for sexual reasons or not, he's not entirely sure.

Once he was done, Troy grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist and went out of the bathroom deciding he would come by the studio to see Gabriella. Maybe give her a break from work and take her out to lunch. They haven't had that official date yet as a couple. And no, that night at Chad's beach house doesn't count. It's high time they go out in public as Mr. and Mrs. Bolton.

Feeling well energized by his plans, he started toward the closet that was on the far left side of the bed to choose what to wear but midway through he stopped. His brows furrowed and he tilted his head sideways listening intently at the strange sound coming from somewhere in his room.

He looked around, carefully inspecting his room. Nothing was amiss. Everything was in its place from last night before he slept. With long strides, he went over his partially open bedroom door and peered outside. No one was there or along the hallways.

And there is that sound again getting more frequent and louder too. It's like forcing air through the nose or like the sound of water when blown with a straw. Annoyed and curious at the same time, Troy listened acutely.

Realizing that the harsh noise is coming from under his bed, he tightened the towel around his waist, crouched on all fours and peeked, determined to stop whatever is causing the infuriating sound.

But as his eyes where beginning to focus on the dimness under the mattress, a round, pink, cold and wet thing poked out to touch his nose. "Fuck!" He jumped up immediately in fright and ran out of his room calling any servant that might be close by. He's sure it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him. There's no way in hell that he's dreaming again.

"Did you see a ghost or something?" Gabriella's familiar voice whipped Troy's head in her direction. She is coming up the grand staircase in a red racerback shirt with pinstriped shorts, carrying a pack of cookies and looking amusingly at his flabbergasted expression.

Troy ran a hand along his damp hair and shook his head still stunned by his discovery. "I think there's a pig under my bed!" He announced pointing with his free hand at the wide open door of his bedroom.

Her eyes seem to enliven at what he said then she asked, "What does it look like?"

"What do you mean what does it look like?" Troy said in an absurd tone. He was expecting her to be shocked but she is calmly standing in front of him undaunted by the news of a loose animal—a pig at that—in the house. "It's a pig, Gabi! It's fucking ugly, smelly and fat and right now it's snorting under my bed!"

"Calm down, Troy …"

"You aren't even concerned there's a farm animal in our house?"

"Relax Troy. It's just a harmless pig. That's probably Petunia or Toto." She said not oblivious to the alarm in Troy's face. She turned her back on him to call out, "Jorge," Referring to the gardener that was running towards them from the opposite wing of the hall, carrying two short leash of red and black. "There's one under Troy's bed!"

Troy's mouth hung open at Gabriella's tranquil tone. He raised both hands placing it over his head like he was supporting his noggin from falling off. "There are two of them?! And they have names!" He said clearly freaked out by the information. "What the hell, Gabi? Are these—creatures your pets?"

As Jorge accepted the bag of cookies from Gabriella, which he would use to lure the animal out from under the bed, and went inside the room to capture the pig, Gabriella erupted in giggles finding Troy's reaction comical. His eyes were wide with alarm and he would open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. "I'm sorry, Troy—"

He cut her off to address his more pressing concern about the pigs. "I don't want them here, Gabi. I'll buy you a dog—five dogs if you want—just get rid of these pigs." He was practically begging her to reconsider her choice of pets. "And this isn't funny!"

She leaned against the wall by the door and slid down to the carpeted hallway in a fit of laughter. She was laughing so hard that she barely noticed Troy padding back into his room in a huff. Overcoming her laugh with an effort, Gabriella pushed herself up and wiped the tears that welled from her eyes.

"Troy, I can explain … they're not mine!" She called out to him holding in another wave of giggles before she walked inside the room.

Jorge had captured the snorting animal by then and he excused himself out to look for the other pig. "Well? I'm listening." Troy said as soon as Gabriella came in.

He was slightly perched on a dark mahogany desk littered with stacks of papers and some books which served as a home office table and his arms were crossed over his chest. He had his clothes on already which Gabriella was silently thankful for. She may find the incident funny but seeing him not five minutes ago with just a towel around his waist, his hair wet and with droplets of water still on his honed body was definitely bothering her to a point of discomfort.

"Those pigs are for the shoot, Troy. The magazine wanted a farm scene with real animals." She explained while she let her eyes roam the interior of his bedroom noting the spaciousness and the masculine colors of the walls and carpet. "I agreed to look after them as a favor to a friend. They're here only for two hours until the owner picks them up. I asked Jorge to take care of them for the time being."

"How did it end up under my bed?"

She smiled sheepishly. "I might have neglected to check the leash and they sorta ran off."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Troy!" She wailed holding in another wave of mirth but it proved futile. She wrapped her arms around her middle and started laughing again. "You should have seen your face when you came out the hall. That look was priceless! Too bad I didn't have my camera with me."

He remained perched on the table just looking at her. The sound of her musical giggles lifting the corners of his mouth into a smile. She looked gorgeous standing there wallowing in hilarity with the sun streaming from the open window behind him, highlighting her features with a healthy glow. Even without a touch of make up except for the faint blush on her cheeks caused by laughing too much, she is naturally lovely.

He stood up, moved away from the desk, dropped his arms and crossed toward the open door to lean a hand on the knob. "You are well aware that you're in my room, right?" He drawled meaningfully.

She held her hands up in front of her immediately aware of the mischievous flash in his eyes. "Yah. First time here. Nice room by the way but I think I better go . . . check on the pigs."

"Not so fast, Gabi. Do you really think I would let this pig incident pass with you laughing at my expense?" He couldn't help smirking at the way she instantly tempered her laughter and her body tensed when he pushed the door shut and locked it.

"Troy … we talked about this and you agreed …"

"Agreed to what exactly?" He took a step toward her.

She took a step back, warily looking sideways and behind her for a chance to get away. "T-That we will get to know each other …"

He took another purposeful step forward, enjoying her apprehension. "And we are. So you should know by now that I'm not very patient with certain things and I don't really appreciate being laughed at."

"I said I was sorry! You're overreacting!" She said, moving two steps back hoping to increase the distance between them before she could ease past him then out the door. But she over estimated her space from the bed. The backs of her knees hit the mattress on her second back step causing her to fall butt first on the dark blue bedspread.

It didn't take long for him to stand directly in front of her. "And that was a bad move, Gabi." A half smiled teased his lips as he quickly grabbed her arms and wrestled her down on the bed then without warning began tickling her sides.

Gabriella's initial anxiety over the unmistakable sneakiness in his eyes was replaced by a loud shriek and the realization that he was only teasing her. "Troy! Stop! Have mercy!" She screeched, trying her best to wiggle free from under his weight and his mobile fingers that were connected to her sides.

He paused as if considering her plea but kept her pinned on the bed. "Hmm … not sincere enough." He said staring down at her with a wily smirk then moved his fingers again.

"I'm sorry!" She laughingly exclaimed twisting her upper body and pushing against his chest with one hand and the other grabbing a plump pillow to whack him with. But it didn't deter him one bit, in fact it made him double his efforts in tickling her. When she couldn't take it anymore, she bellowed, "Troy! I'll do anything you want! Just stop please!"

He did stop. But not because she apologized. "You mean that? _You'll do anything I want?_"

"Anything except _that_!" She retorted slapping his shoulder. It doesn't take a genius to know the direction of his thoughts and taking into account their position on the bed with him on top of her, faces so close and their legs tangled together from the struggle earlier, it was not surprising to have that line of thinking.

Now that he stopped his assault on her sides, she couldn't rebuff the amazing feel of his weight on her. But she strengthened her resolve to keep herself from grabbing his face and kissing those amazing lips of his. Reminding herself that if she did that, especially with the convenience of the bed, it wouldn't end like that one time in the studio. And right at this stage of their friendship, she doesn't want sex to ruin it.

He must have sensed her thoughts as his piercing blues gazed directly into her brown eyes but didn't remark on it, instead he muttered with an exaggerated sigh, "You're no fun."

"You get horny even when its pigs were talking about." She said finding the thought funny again. "That's just gross, Troy."

He smiled at her tactic to turn the subject back to the pigs to keep the sexual tones at bay. He shrugged carelessly. "Whatever you say, Gabi. But you'll spend today with me."

He felt himself his pulse quicken when she ran her tongue over her plump bottom lip then said. "Is that an order? You know I hate being ordered around."

"It's a demand." He stated complacently but deep down he was having trouble keeping his hands steady. The feel of her satin smooth skin beneath his fingertips was too good to pass up a chance for him to caress. But he welcomed the torture as long as he can keep her pinned on his bed for a little bit longer. "And its non negotiable considering the shock you put me through with that damn pig."

She cackled at the mention of the pig, but he could see that she was agreeable to his _demand_. "Fine. You win. I'll call the studio. I'm yours for today."

"Yeah . . . mine."

* * *

Instead of going out to eat, Troy decided they have lunch in the house which came as a shock to every servant of the household who never thought they'd see a day when their master and mistress would be in each others presence.

The household staff rushed to get the elegant dining area ready for the very first lunch that the couple will share. The table which can seat twenty four people was wiped clean and polished twice. The floral arrangement at the center was replaced with fresh colorful blooms from the mansions own garden. Plates, utensils and wine glasses were carefully chosen and meticulously inspected by the head staff and set up adjacently on one side of the long table instead of on opposite ends as is customary. The staff was overjoyed and eager to make the couple's lunch a pleasant one.

But there was none more thrilled than the plump and kindly cook herself, Mrs. Lewis who has been employed by Troy's grandfather when Alicia Bolton was five months pregnant with Troy. She had always cooked for Troy and had grown to care for him like he was her own son.

She was saddened by the way Troy's marriage turned out and had given up hope in ever seeing it fixed. So when she was told that the two were having lunch in the house, Mrs. Lewis nearly fell off the kitchen stool in her excitement to be able to finally show off her cooking skills for Troy and his wife. She prepared an impressive feast that was meant to wow and satisfy the couple's taste buds. And hopefully make them realize that they should spend more time together than go out with other people who have nothing to do with their marriage.

From the appetizer of seared duck foie gras with date and lemon marmalade to the main course of salmon, parsley, porcini and potato fricassee and beef tenderloin, Gabriella's eyes livened up and her lips formed a wide smile, obviously pleased by what was being laid out on the table.

Troy chuckled at the notable dishes knowing that Mrs. Lewis outdid her self for this lunch. The food were worthy of first class restaurant menus. "Send my compliments to the cook." He told one of the servants who eagerly smiled and nodded.

"Medium bodied Pinot Noir for the salmon and Cabernet Sauvignon for the tenderloin. Excellent." Gabriella commented on the choice of wines that were chilling on the side. "Sauternes go well with foie gras. Do we have that?"

"We have it. How do you know so much about wines?" Troy inquired amused by her knowledge of what wine is best suited for their meal.

She gave him a slight frown. "You forget that the orchard and tea farm you now own was my parent's favorite vacation place. I spent a lot of time there up until my teens. I have first hand Wine and Tea 101 lessons. And the chemistry that goes into making them always did interest me."

"Ah, typical nerd interests." He teased as he dismissed the servants from waiting on them. He doesn't want people listening to their conversation.

"I thought you liked nerds."

"I do. I like your _nerdiness _the most."

"I'm afraid to ask why." She rolled her eyes at the sexual undertones and sunk her teeth into a piece of salmon.

He gave her a grin and offered a bite sized portion of beef stuck to his own fork. "Try it. It's good." He said, keeping the fork near her lips to feed her the meat.

She opened her mouth a little self consciously and smiled at him while chewing the meat. She showed him a thumb up sign to say the beef is indeed tasty like what he said.

Swallowing, she cut a piece of salmon, forked it with a mushroom and offered the same to him. "You're turn. Open wide."

He burst out in laughter but allowed her to feed him as well. "Awesome fish."

They carried on eating the delicious meal while engaging in friendly talk and good-natured banter. They were no longer consciously trying to get to know each other. It came naturally like friends would.

Troy forgot the stress of the busy week he had. Gabriella forgot that Petunia and Toto's two hour stay in the mansion had already lapsed an hour ago. Anyone who would have walked in on them would not have guessed that they hated each other when they were married or that they haven't consummated their marriage yet. One look at them eating, offering food to the other, smiling and staring, unconsciously leaning their bodies toward the other and openly flirting would make one conclude they are indeed a newly wed couple.

Months before, Troy never considered it possible for him to gain contentment from merely talking and playfully arguing with her. But over the course of a few days, a lot has changed in their relationship and his preference. And he would be lying to say he didn't like it.

The only thing that didn't change is his sexual desire for her. He had to temper it in favor of getting to know her but it was still there. It refused to wane and probably with her constant presence in his head, it never will.

"You know, ever since my mom died and my dad remarried, I made it a habit to eat alone or just eat out with Sharpay or with my staff at the studio." She suddenly blurted after a moment companionable silence. "This . . . is a first for me in a while."

He glanced at her, placed down the knife and fork and dabbed the napkin to his lips. "I regularly go to Albuquerque for gatherings with extended family members in attendance but this is actually the most enjoyable meal I've shared with someone."

Her gaze dropped to her unfinished dish. "Me too." She admitted, her voice almost inaudible.

A ghost of a smile slid across his lips as he reached out for his glass of wine. "We should do this more often."

She looked back at him and nodded, "Yeah."

"Let's make a toast."

"To what?"

Troy grabbed his wine glass again while Gabriella followed suit. "To a day of firsts." He said raising his glass. "You were in my room for the very first time, then you were on my bed—another first time—and this, our very first lunch together here in the house."

He could see the reasons he stated for the toast threw her a little off balance but she showed him a bright smile and clinked her own glass to his. "To a day of firsts." She repeated.

"And for more firsts to come." He winked.

"Don't push it, Bolton." She warned jokingly, smiling at him over the rim of the wine glass.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8 Flirty

Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Don't own anything._

* * *

She knew the exact moment he came in the studio.

She felt his presence like a tangible force that is becoming more and more familiar to her as the days go by. It was weird but in the past five days that he would come by the studio, Gabriella had developed an awareness of him that she doesn't have with anyone else . . . not even with Sharpay.

She wasn't accustomed to having this kind of heightened consciousness over someone and it amazes her that Troy would have this effect on her senses even when she's fully concentrated on a shoot and had completely zoned out the rest of the people in the studio like she always does.

She could feel Troy's eyes boring holes at the back of her head and she faintly heard some of her staff give him casual and familiar greetings evident of his constant appearance in the studio.

With a small smile, Gabriella lifted up the camera and continued to order the model on the poses she wants done trying her best to ignore the invisible energy he was giving off that is making her loose focus. "Act like you sleep with that whip, Vince. It's all about the whip!"

Snapping a shot as Vince gave a pose, Gabriella thought how she hasn't been using her car of late as Troy would always insist he drop her off at the studio in the morning before he goes to his own office and then later pick her up so that they can get home together in time for dinner.

"_I can always bring you to the studio, you know." He had told her Saturday while they were having breakfast at the gazebo in the middle of the garden._

_She eyed him dubiously but thought it better to decline. "That's okay, Troy. It isn't necessary."_

"_I insist." He said, reaching his arm across the round table to grab her hand and absentmindedly stroked her palm. "And besides, I'm feeling eco friendly. You can help me with it."_

_Her smile broadened and eventually burst out laughing. "How can I say no to an earth loving guy like you without feeling like a traitor to Mother Earth?!"_

"_You better say yes then."_

"_Okay. Yes! Anything to help with a noble cause."_

_He smiled attractively and laced his hand to hers. "I knew you'd see it my way."_

It became some sort of routine . . . or a habit which Gabriella has no complaints about. She rather enjoyed being with him. Even if at the back of her mind, a small voice is telling her that Troy is taking gallantry and their friendship thing a bit too well because ultimately he wants to fuck her . . . he wants her ready and willing when the time comes.

Not that she doesn't want him too. Because God knows she does. It's just at the moment and with the uncertainty of their future, she doesn't want to loose herself in him and end up regretting her decision. But she still liked being with him.

"Loose the shirt." She told the model and kept herself from turning around to greet Troy. She had to get her concentration back on the model and the shoot. "Work it, Vince."

After the hectic schedules of the past weeks declined for both of them, they saw each other almost everyday and generally spent the better part of the evening in the mansion either watching a movie, playing one of the different kinds of games available in the house—video, basketball, board games, cards or whatever else they could think about—or basically talking about a specific topic related to work or about each other or just random stuff.

Flirting was a constant thing in all their time together. It's usually mild and harmless and as Sharpay would call it: Boring-High-School-Stuff. But nevertheless, these simple almost innocent touches make the butterflies in her stomach flutter crazily. And in Gabriella's inference, flirting is also one of the reasons their getting closer.

Last night had been different though. Flirting went a little out of hand and Gabriella partially lays blame on learning how to play billiards . . . which she never got around to actually playing.

"_It's a cue sports, Gabi." Troy began explaining last night while they were waiting for dinner. They were at the game room and to pass the time she had asked Troy to teach her how to play pool. "Meaning, it's played with a cue stick that's used to strike colored billiard balls, moving them around the baize covered table to the side pockets."_

"_What's with the numbers on the balls?"_

"_Gives the order of which you pocket. Usually the 8 and 9 numbered balls are last depending on what type of pool is played."_

_She played with the chalk, rubbing it on the tip of the cue stick repeatedly. "What are we playing now?"_

"_Neither." He replied, moving to her side and positioning her hands and body to hold the stick properly and aim for a shot at the cue ball to break the rack. "You will have to learn how to hit the balls first."_

_She nodded, letting him guide her on the proper body stance. He went on with the pointers. "Spread your legs a bit wider. You have to be surefooted before you strike on the ball."_

"_Don't be too eager to hit."_

"_Make sure the cue ball is aligned with the target ball." _

_He was bent over the billiards table just like her, except that his right leg is positioned in between hers. One hand was on her left arm and the other was at her waist. And his mouth was so close to her ear that every time he spoke, she could feel his warm breath against her cheek and neck. It was making it hard for her to listen to whatever he's saying._

"_Relax, Gabi." He admonished mildly while he stroked her arm to loosen the muscles for a better chance at hitting the ball right and he held her waist tighter, inadvertently chafing her thighs against his pants covered leg._

_She tried her best to loosen up and ignore the arousing sensations he was giving her with his innocent touches. "_He's not touching to seduce you." _She mentally reminded herself._ "He's teaching you the right way to play. Concentrate Gabriella! Get your head on the game!"

"_This looks easy but it's not." She said but she actually means it's hard to learn the game when you're this close to me._

"_If you focus on what I'm saying, you'll breeze through this."_

"_I am focused!" _

_He chortled. "No you're not. Your body is tense. I can feel it, Gabi."_

_She tensed even more knowing that he's aware of their closeness and the effect it's having on her. "Make a shot." He urged softly. _

_Taking a huge breath to expel the anxiety from her body, she carefully began sliding the stick with her right hand to aim for the white cue ball. "Give it enough force so you break the rack." Troy reminded still standing close and holding her. "Eye on the cue ball."_

_With the distraction he was giving, she followed his instructions as best she could and to her relief she managed to slightly forget where his hands are and the warm tingly feeling it was giving her body. _

_She gave the stick one last forceful shove and sent the cue ball rolling toward the triangle of colorful balls. The fifteen ball rack broke and the balls scattered in all directions on the billiard table from the impact. _

_As she straightened and dislodged his hold on her, she saw three balls roll directly into three side pockets when the rack exploded and in her delight, she jumped and cheered. "I did it! I did it!"_

_His eyes lit up merrily at her childishness. "Well done to me!"_

"_To you?" She stopped jumping, faced him and after replacing the cue stick on the table, placed a hand on her hips in a plucky manner. "I did the shot. Not you!"_

"_I taught you how to do it." He insisted pompously. "And I had to tell you repeatedly to concentrate on the ball instead of minding my closeness to you."_

_She gasped and gave him the price he asked for his arrogant attitude, a quick slap to the chest. "You were doing it on purpose, weren't you?" She accused._

"_Of course not. I would never!" He defended himself rubbing the part of his chest she slapped._

"_You're a terrible liar."_

_He dismissed it with a wave of hand but looked straight into her eyes and said, "I've spent a great deal of time imagining you pressed against me in more ways than one, Gabi. You have no idea how you make me feel when you're close to me. It's good to know I have the same effect on you. But it's still not enough."_

_She backed up slowly and reached behind her to steady herself against the billiard table. Her face was a mask of uncertainty, uneasiness and slight fear. She felt the same way. She was undoubtedly attracted to him but she's persistently denying it for the sake of self preservation and their blooming friendship._

_Yet, the fact remains that they're married and whatever attraction there is between them is very much justified by that legality alone. All this flirting would seem like she's playing with fire when in truth she's keeping a reign on her impulses so that he won't think she's an easy woman . . . like all the others he was used to associating with. _

_This was it. The tension had been building ever since that night at Chad's beach house and they—she had been putting off broaching the matter in their conversations. She knew they had to talk about this situation eventually and it was likely happening now. She faced him squarely. "Troy, please don't think I'm stringing you along because I'm not."_

"_Then what is it?" He asked stepping in front of her, bracing his hands on both sides of her hips and trapping her between his body and the billiard table. "It's no damn secret we're attracted to each other so why control your self."_

_She swallowed, resting her hands on his inner elbows while looking deeply into his eyes. "Because I don't want to be a casual lay, Troy." She admitted in a shaky voice._

_His hands lifted and bracketed her jaw. His eyes roved over her lovely face and said softly, "Who says you will be? You're my wife." _

"_Your wife for five years."_

_One hand touched her hair, smoothing it without a hint of force that Gabriella couldn't help but close her eyes at the gentleness. "I won't force you into having sex with me, Gabi."_

_She turned her face at the gentle caress of his palm on her cheek and lifted her eyes to his intense blue ones. "Thank you."_

_He continued to look into her eyes while his hands moved down to her hips, closing in on them and lifting her up to sit on the edge of the pool table causing a slight tremor on the forgotten billiard balls. "But I badly want to kiss you."_

_Her lips opened to say no, it was not a good idea, their feelings were out of control from flirting too much, they needed to get back to being plain friends. It was fun being friends, wasn't it? It was easier too. But before she could speak he lowered his face and gently rubbed the tip of his nose against her nose. "Let me kiss you, Gabi." He murmured gruffly. "Don't think about anything else . . . just let me kiss you."_

_Maybe it was the heated tension in the air, the suggestive position they had on the billiard table, the unmistakable passion in his dark blue eyes, her own need threatening to burst out of her skin or all of those reasons that made Gabriella reconsider and capitulate._

_With a sigh of acquiescence, she slanted her face and pressed her lips against his sending her heart to quiver crazily in her chest. She slid her arms over his shoulders and rested them at the back of his neck drawing him close and moved her mouth indolently beneath his, opening her lips to welcome his seeking tongue._

_Troy stood between her thighs. His hands roved down the back of her backless paisley blouse, spreading his hands wide at the lowest part of her exposed back and drawing the legging clad junction between her legs against the long, hard ridge of flesh inside his pants telling her more than words can how she was making him feel._

_He undulated his hips, sinuously grinding against her while he kissed her with a wild thrusting tongue. It was as if he was pouring all his pent up desires for her into the kiss and Gabriella was helpless to resist. In fact, she was delighting in the feel of his lips, tongue and hips and she couldn't do anything but respond with an equal amount of passion._

_As the kiss lingered, it grew more hot, wet, tormenting and seductive. His hands wandered to her blouse covered breast cupping it tenderly. Then he jerked his mouth off of hers to say in a voice gone low, "Gabi, I swear—you drive me crazy." His hands cupped the back of her head and pulled her hard against him to continue the kiss._

_The raspy admission and the demanding kiss made Gabriella forget her reservations to their closeness and strained her body to fit his hardening contours. When the need to breathe became pressing, they buried their faces in each other's neck, clinging, inhaling each other's scent that they were already familiar with, running his hands over the thin material of her blouse and leggings and hers over the firm muscles of his arms, shoulders and back._

_No one interrupted them this time around . . . but as if thinking on the same wavelength, they gradually stopped kissing each other, breathing heavily and pressing their foreheads together with their eyes closed. Yet, they remained in each other's arms._

_Three loud knocks on the door disturbed the air in the game room after a few minutes and slowly the door opened to reveal a servant who anxiously informed them that dinner was ready, obviously embarrassed to have walked in on the couple in a tight embrace and unmindful of their surroundings._

_Reluctantly, as the servant hurried to get out of the room, Troy loosened his embrace and gave Gabriella one hard smack on the lips before jesting in a throaty tone, "I hope what I'm feeling right now is hunger pain."_

_She giggled at his hapless expression and also gave him a smack on the lips._

Surprisingly, when they finally pulled away from the embrace and went to have dinner, the same camaraderie they had developed with each other was there. The awkwardness she was expecting didn't surface at any moment and she was immensely glad for it.

As she thinks about it, she realized that their kissing in the game room dispelled the looming tension and uneasiness she always has concerning Troy. She still has her reluctance when it comes to the marriage since currently they were both still sticking with the terms of her father's will of a five year marriage and as far as she knows their legal arrangement will be up to that time only. She's not harboring any hope that it will extend to _happily ever after_ because as far as she's concerned, love is not an emotion in play in their relationship.

But kisses are definitely a part of their friendliness now. Troy kissed her goodnight last night when they went to their respective bedrooms and this morning she was the one who kissed him when he dropped her off for work. And he was very pleased when she initiated the sweet gesture.

"Okay, that's a wrap! Great work, Vince." Gabriella finally said giving Vince a hi-five when he came down the bedroom prop set.

He lingered by her side as she was putting away the camera on the tripod and moving some of the equipment aside. "Always a pleasure to pose for a gorgeous photographer, Gabs." Vince said playing the charming side of his dark good looks.

Troy's eyes narrowed on the half naked male model who was obviously flirting with an unsuspecting Gabriella. He strode over to where they were and without a pause slipped his arms around Gabriella's tiny waist to press her against him and greet her with a languorous kiss effectively interrupting Vince's moves on her.

She smiled at him when he pulled back and shyly blushed knowing that every one in the studio had witnessed the kiss, especially Vince who was gaping in astonishment at them. "Vince Spencer, this is Troy Bolton." She jumped to introductions to lessen the discomfiture. "My husband."

Vince mouth dropped like an unscrewed part of a machine and Troy had to smother a snort from escaping his lips for courtesy sake. He extended a hand at the poor guy. "Hey Vince. Nice meeting you."

Like an automaton, Vince grabbed Troy's hand for a brief hand shake and promptly excused him self, mumbling something about getting changed and running late for an appointment somewhere.

"Well . . . that was awkward." Gabriella declared when Vince was out of earshot then lifted her eyes back at Troy.

He sniggered looping an arm over her shoulders in a possessive gesture. "He's a grown guy. He'll live."

She rested a hand on the arm that hung over her shoulder and gently tugged to get him moving toward the direction of her office. Ignoring his rather mean comment about Vince, Gabriella closed her office door and eyed him carefully. She noted the weariness in his usually lively eyes as he slumped down on her comfy swivel chair behind her desk and his forehead has at least two creases in them.

"Why do you look exhausted . . . and pissed?" She asked staying by the door. "Bad day at work?"

Troy smiled. It was one of the things he liked about her. She's keenly perceptive of his moods. "You can say that again."

"Bad day at work?" She repeated with a straight face.

He cracked up at the indiscernible humor in her voice and said, "I need a woman's touch. Care to volunteer?"

They were flirting again and Gabriella didn't even think to steer away from it. She pushed off from the door, walked behind him, placed her hands on his shoulder and began kneading the kinks away in an effort to relax his muscles.

He sighed and leaned back further into the chair letting her hands work its magic on his tired muscles. "I need your expertise, Gabi."

"What expertise is that?"

He whirled the chair around to face her stopping the massage she was doing. "I need a tea guru to teach me all about tea or my grandfather will have my head."

* * *

"What is tea?" Gabriella asked.

They were seated at the off white square table in the kitchen indulging in Mrs. Lewis deliciously sweet profiteroles while Troy was waiting for Gabriella to begin teaching him about tea in between bites of dessert.

He opened the book he had been reading for weeks now about the basic knowledge of tea and its production, scanning the pages for an appropriate answer to her query. Wines are interesting to learn since he drinks it on occasion but tea is an altogether difficult topic for him to grasp. For one, he doesn't care for it like he does with wine, and two, he's not an avid tea drinker like his grandfather.

But with the construction of the new restaurant that conceptually will offer a variety of tea to its customers aside from wine and food, Troy has to familiarize himself with everything about tea. That's the way he works. He has to know more than anybody in his own establishment or in the industry.

"Troy . . . I thought you read that book already." Gabriella bobbed her head at the book in front of him.

"I did. I just couldn't picture any of the stuff written here. I also browsed the net but my mind just refuses to focus on tea."

She wiped her lips with a napkin and leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. "Okay, just listen." She said. "Tea is commonly defined as the brew made from the infusion of water and the leaves of an evergreen plant of the Camellia family. But in the tea industry, it is the dried processed leaves of Camellia sinensis or Thea sinesis."

"So to normal people, Tea is the drink. While to producers, it's the leaves."

"Exactly."

"It says here in the book that there are four major types of tea . . ." Troy flipped the pages and showed her what he was talking about. "I really don't get the difference though. It wasn't explained here."

"White, Green, Oolong and Black tea all come from the same tea plant, Camellia sinensis. What distinguishes one from the others is the method used in processing the leaves." She explained not once regarding what is written on the book. "The way the leaves are processed—steamed, oxidized, dried or bruised—makes the difference."

"Shit, Gabi!" He exclaimed, tossing the book over his shoulders like useless scrap material. "I'm so stupid to have read that fucking book every night before I sleep for several weeks when I could have had you in bed with me talking about tea!"

Gabriella had to stifle her laughter at his aggravated expression and tried to say in what she hoped is a serious tone, "Goodness, here comes the bedroom talk again. Do you want to know about tea or not?"

"You make for a scary teacher." He retorted unabashed then popped the last piece of profiterole into his mouth.

"Hey—" Gabriella yelled as her hands reached out to grab the profiterole from his hand but he was too quick. She pouted at his chomping mouth and feigned anger for taking the last piece of sweet from her plate.

He chewed the profiterole with deliberate slowness and made sounds to indicate the tastiness of the dessert. Gabriella erupted in giggles at the exaggerated way he was eating in an attempt to annoy her. But he eventually laughed with her. He looked so boyish and playful and still very handsome that Gabriella had to resist the urge to kiss his lips and taste the sweet food inside his mouth.

Mrs. Lewis came to them at that moment carrying a new batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies she had already placed in a jar. The delicious scent of the goodies filled the room and wafted their senses. "More dessert?" She offered, tipping the jar at them.

Without a second thought, Troy dunked his hand in the jar grabbed one huge piece of cookie and immediately began eating it. "This is wonderful, Mrs. Lewis." He complimented the beaming cook.

Gabriella also took a piece for herself, smiling at the plump lady who never fails to cook them mouth-watering meals. "Mrs. Lewis, this is scrumptious! You are feeding us way too much . . . I'm getting fat already."

"Nonsense. A cookie once in a while won't damage the figure." Mrs. Lewis dismissed the notion with a wave of a mitten covered hand. "You look just fine from where I'm standing. Doesn't she, Troy?"

"Yes, she does, Mrs. Lewis. Yes she does." Troy agreed wholeheartedly his eyes slowly roaming over her face and upper body with a meaningful grin.

Satisfied by the reply, Mrs. Lewis added to Gabriella, "You better believe your husband, dear. He's the one who sees you in your birthday suit, and with the way he looks at you, he must like what he's seeing."

Fighting to keep himself from laughing at Gabriella's mortified reaction, Troy told the cook, "Better give Gabi another cookie, Mrs. Lewis. There are some areas I'd prefer to be . . . errr . . . fuller."

Mrs. Lewis, clueless that she is, followed and quickly pulled another cookie out of the container placing it on the plate in front Gabriella. Then, with a bright smile, she left them alone but not without leaving the jar of cookies on the table in case Gabriella or Troy would want more.

The dark brown orbs shot daggers at Troy's roguish laugh. She was blushing in annoyance and looking at Troy's snickering face added more to her chagrin. Gabriella grabbed the first thing available to her and threw the cookie at him which he easily evaded. "You perverted oaf! That was uncalled for!" She snapped.

He leaned his elbows on the table, amusement curved his lips. "Oh come on, Gabi! Where's your sense of humor? And besides we can't have Mrs. Lewis knowing we haven't done the deed—she'll tell my grandfather about it."

"This is the thanks I get for agreeing to teach you about tea." She grumbled swinging sideways on her chair to avoid his stare but the corners of her lips twitched. "Don't talk to me, I'm pouting."

Before she knew it, there was a scraping of wood against the tiled floor and Troy materialized in front of her. He reached out and ran the tip of his finger along the bridge of her nose making her nostrils wiggle. "I'll make it up to you, Gabi."

"Just how are you gonna do that?" She challenged, grasping the finger that's distracting her nose.

"It's your call. Whatever you decide. I won't object."

"Really?"

He nodded, pleasure floating over him at the sight of her dubious face. She's gorgeous as she is funny and enjoyable, and he let his eyes wander over her lips, cheekbones and eyelashes.

He would have leaned in to kiss her but then icy cold water suddenly came dripping from his head down to his shirt "What the fuck—" He gasped in shock and immediately backed away. Realizing in seconds that as retribution, Gabriella had just poured a glass of water over his head.

Smiling sweetly at him, his hair plastered to his skull and his shirt sticking to his skin, Gabriella announced matter-of-factly, "I'm good now."

"Good to know." He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

She snickered, unable to keep a straight face any longer then promptly yelped as he yanked her arm and pressed the side of her face to his wet shirt. "No fair!"

"We're a bunch of kids!" He said.

They dissolved in uncontrollable laughter, even as he pulled her out of the kitchen, past the indoor pool area and onto the staircase leading up the second floor rooms. Laughter had gradually faded once they reached the top of the steps and Troy reluctantly let go of her hand so that she can go to the opposite direction of the hall where her room was.

"Gabi," He stopped her taking hold of her elbows. "I still need your help with tea especially about the processing. It sucks not knowing."

She smiled, stepped closer and tipped her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll make you a flow chart and we'll continue the tea lesson tomorrow."

His arms circled her waist and lightly pecked her lips. "You know what else sucks?" He spoke in a strangely quiet way. When Gabriella shook her head, he avowed, "It's sleeping alone in my bed when across the hall another warm body that should be sleeping next to mine is alone on her bed as well."

"Troy . . ." She began but an unexpected noise from downstairs which sounded like car tires rolling on gravel, doors closing, bags being hauled out from a compartment and muted voices of about four people made them pull apart to investigate.

Peering curiously over the railing, Troy waited for whoever arrived in the late hour to come into view. He wasn't expecting any visitors and neither was Gabriella.

"Who is it?" She asked craning her neck as she scanned the lower floor. Then the visitor suddenly appeared on the lowest step of the stairs freezing Gabriella on the spot, her knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing hard and she shot an anguished glance at Troy. _This cannot be good._

"Grandpa!" He called out. "What brings you here this late?"

"I'm staying for a few days."

_Shoot me now._

* * *

_**A/N:** You're reviews are great! I'm so surprised that many of you liked the chapter with the pigs. Thanks so much guys! Anyway, I apologize for not updating sooner. I've been awfully busy this past week. So yeah . . . _


	9. Chapter 9 Control

Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

Patrick Reiss is a seventy three year old nearly six feet tall man with thinning silver hair, a somber face that showed weathered lines appropriate for his age, light brown eyes that were alert despite the lateness of the hour and a surprisingly lean built clad in maroon tartan shirt and dark grey trousers.

A cane in one hand, he climbed the stairs at a turtle's pace but he refused assistance from any of the servants offering to help him. He had a stubborn jaw set and his lips were stretched into a thin line evident of his impatience with the people tendering a helping hand. "I'm not incompetent!" He bellowed irritably, waving his cane at anyone who dared approach him. "If you people haven't been interrupting my ascent, I would have been up there already!"

Gabriella watched the old man progress slowly up the steps. She stood next to Troy gripping his arm like her balance depended on it. She was suddenly scared of Troy's grandfather. She did not pay him mind during the wedding in Italy and even if she had wanted to, at that time she was a jumble of nerves whose main concern was to get over the sham of the ceremony. Every person's face was a blur to her during that occasion.

And anyone who knew of the arranged marriage can not really blame her for acting such six month ago. But as of this moment, she's very confused as to why Patrick Reiss is in the mansion. She lifted worried brown eyes at Troy who seem unconcerned by how his grandfather is behaving. In fact, Troy is smirking at the old man shouting expletives at the household staff who were unfortunate enough to think of proffering their aid to the man—which worried Gabriella even more.

Confrontational, strict, mulish, irascible and wily are just a few of the adjectives that were crossing her mind as she looks at Troy's grandfather ascending the stairs. She isn't good with grandfathers . . . or grandmothers for that matter as she never experienced having one all her life.

Scratch that . . . she's never good with any relative. She's never had to deal with family members since her own family from both sides isn't that prolific and at present, she's practically an orphan. She doesn't know what to expect from Troy's grandfather or if she should be expecting anything at all.

Nobody taught her how to deal with a daunting old man who plays a big part in their arranged marriage . . . will he give her a hard time while he stays in the mansion? Question her about their relationship? Will he dislike her? Will he dislike her so much that he'd be tempted to whack her with that cane of his? She hopes not.

Normally the opinion of others doesn't matter to her. But in this case, it is necessary for Patrick Reiss to have a good impression of her for the simple reason that he knows Marissa and probably communicates with her once in awhile. And this early in the arrangement, she does not want Marissa finding a loophole to take right in claiming her inheritance.

Troy afforded a glance at Gabriella when her grasp on his arm became a little painful and he noticed that she looked several shades paler. He gave her his best impression of a comforting smile and unwound his arm from her hold, lacing their fingers instead.

"What's he doing here?" She asked in a small voice.

"There's a shareholder's meeting tomorrow. I'm sorry I completely forgot about that." He amended.

He understood the apprehension in her eyes. His grandfather's stay means one of many things and one of those things is . . . she will have to move in his room for the time being. While he did promise that he will not force her into doing anything with him, the other—more intolerant and less gentlemanly—side of him is rejoicing at the idea of her sleeping on his bed right next to him this very night.

Mentally, he considered thanking his grandfather for this unscheduled visit but realized he cannot let the old man know that his marriage to Gabriella isn't really what would qualify as an actual marriage yet.

For one, Patrick Reiss had been firm about him marrying Gabriella saying that she's his match—although when asked why he would think a complete stranger is a match for him, he replied with, "It's for me to know and for you to find out. And finding out, will be the fun part for you."—he was utterly confused when he had said that but hadn't prodded the old man since at that time he was so incensed by the idea of marrying an unfamiliar person.

Secondly, his grandfather and his parents had no less than threatened him before the wedding that he should treat Gabriella well or else they would relinquish from him the management of the wine and tea farm and most of the establishments he currently runs. It was no idle threat too. He saw how serious their faces were and that alone convinced him they mean business.

So if by any chance his grandfather learns that it was only recently he and Gabriella got better acquainted, that threat might be carried out without a second thought. And he doesn't want that happening.

Setting aside his earlier joy about their sleeping arrangements, Troy squeezed Gabriella's hand to draw her attention. She raised scared eyes to him which he felt bad for but could do little about. "If anything, my grandpa is very perceptive." He told her but it sounded more like a caution.

"Try to stay calm." He murmured to an extremely bothered Gabriella who reluctantly nodded and gripped his hand tight. "Don't worry . . . we'll do this together."

"That's not what I'm worried about." She confessed softly.

"What then? Because I'm worried about convincing him we already know each other well after all this time since the wedding. He will ask questions, Gabi."

"We know each other, Troy. We're friends now, aren't we? Convincing him will be easy." She said then she bit her lip and unconsciously began rubbing his arm with her free hand. "I'm worried that he won't like me."

She sounded so despondent at the thought that Troy was momentarily stunned by the knowledge that she sells herself short to other people. "Why would you think that?" He asked.

"Because I've never had a grandfather before." She was about to elaborate further seeing Troy's speechlessness but Patrick Reiss had already—finally—reached the top step of the stairs where they were waiting and Gabriella's entire body at once felt like it's been rooted to the spot.

"Grandpa! I missed you." Troy greeted jovially leaving Gabriella's side to engulf the old man in a bear hug. "You should have told me earlier you'd be here. I would have picked you up at the airport."

"I'm here now. Don't go rewinding the hours." Patrick admonished mildly but there was a pleasant aura in his face while he talked to Troy. "I wanted to surprise you two."

"You _certainly_ did, Grandpa."

When Patrick moved his gaze to Gabriella, it was her cue to greet the old man. Should she offer a hand shake? Hug him like Troy did? Or just simply greet him with words? She doesn't know which one is appropriate or allowed without coming on too familiar or too touchy.

She shot Troy a fleeting glance and saw his eyes were encouraging her to make a move. With an under breath, she took a step toward Patrick still debating on how to greet him but before she could lift her hand the old man thrust the cane at Troy for him to hold and he spread his arms wide at Gabriella then immediately closed up around her in a hug.

"Gabriella." He said in the most affectionate tone she hadn't expected to hear from him. "It is so good to see you again."

Taken by surprise at the warm gesture, Gabriella found herself smiling in relief and she hugged Patrick back in joy. "Same here, Mr. Reiss. It's good to see you too. How have you been?"

He released her but kept an arm on her shoulders. "I'm always good. Call me Grandpa. We're family now. Mr. Reiss sounds so formal and old."

"Grandpa you are old." Troy interjected, handing back his cane.

"I'm sorely tempted to knock you down with this cane, Troy. That is if you don't mind, Gabriella."

Gabriella giggled, the initial trepidation about this meeting falling away from her mind. "Oh I don't mind at all Mr. Rei—I mean, Grandpa—go right ahead."

A low rumble in Patrick's belly went off as a laugh which put Gabriella at ease even more and he gently patted her shoulder but his next question was contradictory to the smiling expression on his face. "Has Troy been treating you right?"

"Y—yes." She replied, a little surprised by the query. Looking directly at Troy's now apprehensive face, she gave him an impish smile then added, "He's very . . . nice and companionable. I enjoy spending my time with him."

Hoping her admission wasn't just for his grandfather's benefit, Troy insisted, "I am treating her right, Grandpa." And to reinforce his claim, he pulled Gabriella away from Patrick's side drawing her close to him to give her a peck on the lips.

But Patrick isn't easily swayed by this display of affection. He frowned at Troy and shook his head in disapproval. "You are thinking with your testosterone again." He grumbled, banging the cane once on the floor to emphasize his censure. "And why the hell is your shirt wet at this time of the night?"

Gabriella gasped but did her best to suppress her mirth by burying her face against Troy's damp shirt while Troy blushed and distractedly began rubbing his nape with his free hand. "Grandpa!" He scolded but it lacked conviction. "It's her fault."

In between giggles, she objected in her defense. "You . . . started it!"

The old man ignored Troy. But with an endearing smile, he addressed Gabriella instead. "If you find out Troy has another woman besides you, tell me and I will ship him off to military school."

"God, Grandpa! Did you just come here to lecture me on good manners and right conduct?" Troy complained a bit irritably. When Gabriella giggled again and nodded at his grandfather, he groaned, "You two are ganging up on me! This cannot be good."

* * *

An hour later, after several questions about their relationship, Gabriella's profession, future plans and even about motherhood—which had Gabriella stuttering a response, Troy thanked the high heavens because his grandfather had finally decided to retire for the night in one of the guest rooms.

And Gabriella, after sneaking quietly in the hallway to keep Patrick from noticing she's gathering things from her room and after taking longer than usual to get ready for bed, is now inside his room uneasily fidgeting as she persisted on hanging by the settee furthest from the bed.

She wore a beige v-neck tank top and black cotton shorts that looked so good on her giving Troy's thoughts a flash of gleaming brunette hair draped over his pillow and her naked body writhing in ecstasy under his.

He shook the erotic thought aside as he continued to stare at her while he was perched on the leather chair by his desk. Biting back a smile at her obvious discomfort at being in his room, Troy wondered what could be going on inside her head right now.

Gabriella has been thinking of ways to avoid sleeping in his room tonight but that concern was outweighed earlier by the idea of giving a good impression to his grandfather. It was when Patrick announced he was tired and needed to retire that the import of her situation went tumbling down her wits to the point of nervousness. There was no escaping the sleeping arrangement now.

To make her edginess worst, Troy's heavy lidded blue eyes is deliberately making a leisurely appraisal of her body that made her squirm in the settee and self consciously reach for a square pillow to cover her upper legs.

_Is he thinking of honeymooning tonight?! _When she couldn't take his stares anymore, she retorted, "Will you stop staring at me."

"I'm admiring you."

"Thank you but please don't do it now. It's bothering me."

He chuckled, enjoying how she's trying to keep on a cool façade despite her inner distress. "On the contrary, Gabi, you _bother_ me right now. And I think you know why."

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She won't deny that the idea of having sex with him makes her whole body tremble and legally they are expected to have sex but she just couldn't shake the fact that all of this is temporary.

_For five years only_. Their marriage is beneficial to both of them within that period alone. Beyond that . . . she doesn't know. He's not giving any vibe that he wants this marriage to stay longer than five years. He only wants to claim his rights in bed as her husband which, for her, is not a good enough reason. And his grandfather's appearance tonight certainly did not change that.

"Are you a virgin, Gabi?"

Her eyes flew open in incredulity. _Where did the question pop out from?_ Surely she must have heard wrong . . . or not. "What?!"

"You heard me."

"Yes, I heard you!" She snapped heatedly, averting her gaze.

He watched her struggle to appear blasé. Her scandalized eyes told him what the answer is but he wanted to hear it from her. "So are you?" He persisted stubbornly.

A flash of annoyance crossed her features then her eyes lifted, unabashed. "Yes!" She shot back. "There! I said it. Happy now?"

"Very." He drawled, his lips smiled lopsidedly. Then in one fluid move, he sprang out of his seat, striding over to her and gathering her in his arms like a groom carrying a bride to their honeymoon suite.

Gabriella wiggled from his hold demanding he put her down as he walked them to the bed. He ignored her protests and gently placed her in the center of the mattress then pinning her with his body. "Troy . . . what does it matter if I'm a virgin or not? I—I'm not ready for what you want. Stop grinning at me like that! I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

"There's no reason for you to be embarrassed, Gabi."

"Then why do you look like you're finding my being a virgin funny."

He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her lightly on the lips. It doesn't matter if she's not ready to have sex with him now. He's willing to wait for her to be ready. Because he knows it will be worth it. Because a deeper part of him is just inexplicably happy to know this bit of information about her. Because her shy admission stirred some buried feelings in him . . . emotions he refused to think of because of Julie's betrayal.

"Gabi, I'm amazed."

"By what?"

"By how you managed to stay a virgin all these years looking like this . . . so gorgeous and hot." He said then his lips peppered feathery kisses all over her face; starting at her forehead, the lids of her eyes, the tip of her nose, her flushed cheeks and the outline of her jaw but he meticulously avoided her lips.

Despite her irritation a second ago over the subject of her virginity, Gabriella sighed at the pleasure Troy's lips is evoking from her body. Her eyes remained closed and her hands found its way to his nape and back moving in a caress that urged him to continue the gentle but pleasurable actions.

"And my grandfather is officially smitten with you, Gabi." His lips trailed down her neck, exploring the smooth column as his hands ran along her sides and thighs at a slow, torturous pace. "It doesn't happen very often but you managed to impress him especially when you agreed that iguanas make good pets."

"Your grandfather is very nice, Troy. I like him." She breathed, turning her head slightly to give him better access to her neck. "But I hope he's not serious about the iguana. A lizard with a serrated fringe running along its back from head to tail isn't exactly my idea of a pet."

He chuckled but didn't stop his kisses. "Thank you for giving allowances for his age."

"Yes." Was all she could say but she isn't sure what she's saying yes to anymore. The feel of Troy's lips effectively made her forget the reasons for her uncertainty and reservations at being in his room, on his bed . . . about being intimate.

Just when she thought the feel of his lips couldn't get anymore enjoyable, he began nipping on a particular spot on her neck that made her moan out loud as a shudder of pleasure made her skin prickle.

Vaguely aware that he is marking her and unconcerned that tomorrow she'll probably have a hickey the size of Australia, Gabriella's arms tightened more firmly around him. She reveled in how good it felt to be caressed by Troy.

"I want you so bad, Gabi." He whispered huskily when he let up on her neck and his lips were hovering closely over her own. "But I know you still have reservations about us having sex so I'll wait . . . just don't take too long . . . this is killing me."

She might have been drowning in the intense blue pools of his eyes but her heart soared at his words. And even if he didn't say it, Gabriella knows he cares enough for her since he respects her decision no matter how hard it is for him.

"Are you testing . . . the limits of your control, Troy? We shouldn't be making out . . ."

"My control has been tested for three and a half months now, Gabi."

Her hands trembled as she lifted them up to cradle his handsome face, as if she suddenly seeing him in a new light. "Chad was telling the truth then . . . you have been faithful." Her voice became unsteady and her pulse went pounding. "Please kiss me, Troy."

A long, blank pause ensued while he eyed her thoughtfully. "Promise me one thing . . . from now on you sleep here in my room, regardless of whether or not my grandfather is here or whoever else suddenly decides to come."

She stared at him with a searching look in her brown orbs. Her mind ran a frenzied mental assessment of the complications that could arise from his proposal but she admitted to herself even if she's being held back by her personal issues right now, eventually when she gets past that hurdle, she will want Troy to be her first.

"I promise."

He released the breath he held captive while she was thinking of an answer before his lips slowly dropped to the inviting fullness of her lips. There were no more words spoken after that.

His lips and tongue began its gentle exploration of her mouth as his rough hands sought her breasts under the cotton tank. His fingers reacquainted themselves with her pebbled nipples, kneading her breast at the same time.

She sighed into the kiss matching the demands of his mouth and hardly realized that her own hands had slipped inside his shirt and began running along his muscled back moving toward the base of his spine.

He groaned harshly and tore his mouth away from hers to pull off her tank top. His mouth quickly found her breasts flicking them with his tongue then lapping hard on each soft globe, sending pleasure coursing through Gabriella's veins.

But it didn't end there. His mouth travelled further down to her flat stomach, licking the golden skin that Gabriella could do little but arch her body up to his expert lips and thread her fingers through his soft hair.

Suddenly he sat up and before she could question him, he lugged her arms up and forward so that they were now both sitting on the bed, her facing him at eye level straddling his lap. "Take off my shirt." He ordered quietly his thumbs stroking the curve of her hips.

When she did as bidden, he put pressure on her back to push her breast against his bare chest loving the feel of skin on skin before his gruff voice beside her ear said, "You can kiss me, if you want to. You can stop, if you want to. You decide how far do you want to go, Gabi."

Gabriella could feel the growing bulge between his legs as it rubbed languidly against her wet center—it is a definite distraction. But she gazed at the sensual mouth inches from hers and in silence studied his face as if searching for an unspoken promise. _He's giving her control. _Slowly, her lips moved closer to his and her heart began to race.

The moment their lips connected again, his mouth opened on hers in a hard, hungry kiss. His fingers buried into her hair, holding her mouth locked to his while her arms pulled him by the shoulders. And like their previous kisses, it became intense, demanding, arousing . . .

Then there was a loud rap on the door, followed by Patrick's voice saying, "Troy, I need your research on tea. Might as well read it tonight. Damn jetlag—couldn't sleep."

They tensed, wide eyed gazes flying toward the closed door trying to remember if it was locked. The sexual tension in the air slowly dissipated and for Gabriella it was replaced by hilarity while Troy was obviously infuriated.

"Urgh! Dammit!" He cursed under his breath resting his forehead on her bare shoulders that were slightly shaking from her giggles. "I'm tempted to send him packing to a nearby hotel. His timing is like a fucking cold shower."

"Where is your heart?! That's your grandfather out there." She avowed in a mock serious tone then quietly giggled again.

"Yeah right. Apparently, he's your ally now."

"You said I'm in control."

"Tell me." He mused, eyeing her intently. "If Grandpa didn't knock, would you have stopped?"

She bit her lip, blushed and lowered her gaze, realizing that the discerning Patrick Reiss had unwittingly saved her from loosing control.

"Didn't think so." Troy mumbled.

"Troy!" Patrick rapped on the door once more, his tone impatient. "I know you're both still awake."

"Alright! I'm coming right out." Troy shouted back and reluctantly untangled himself from Gabriella to get off the bed. He ran a hand through his messy hair and irately watched Gabriella slip on her tank top before stretching out on one side of the bed silently laughing.

"Shit! I don't have the damn research he wants." He said remembering that he only had the book on tea not his own research and the book was left in the kitchen when he tossed it. "Fuck!"

"Well," She sat up and smiled. "It looks like I have to make that tea processing flow chart now. I need to use your computer. Why don't you go out and stall Grandpa a little bit while I make you your research on tea."

"Did I mention I hate tea?"

"At some point . . . yes."

"Well, I hate it."

Amusedly, Gabriella pushed herself off the bed, handed him his shirt and quipped, "Tell Grandpa, I said thanks." Then she strode toward the computer table leaving Troy to shake his head in annoyance.

* * *

**A/N:** Still busy but I'm overwhelmed by the reviews guys! I enjoy reading them specially the long ones. **Thank you so so much to EVERYONE who took the time to review, put my story on alert and added to their favorites.** Oh I have to give a special mention to _**smartgirl231814** for reviewing every chapter so far;** jb1236** your review made me smile. give your friends my thanks and to **avaa005**--yes, the info about tea are all facts. you're a semi tea expert now. lol. And also **ZacHeartVanessa** and **AmericanDesi.**_ This chapter is probably not what everyone was expecting, what with T/G sharing a room and all. There's one thing I will say tho. . . all in good time, folks. ;D


	10. Chapter 10 Sneaky

Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

The thick draperies in Troy's room were left last night gathered into three equal sections by gold curtain straps. When morning came and with it sunlight, the rays filtered through the huge glass windows casting light into the silent room where two people were still sleeping.

Half covered by the blue gray blanket that matched the bedspread, they were side by side facing each other, and judging from the proximity of their position, it would appear like their sleeping heads rested on one pillow only and most likely inhaling each others exhaled breath.

Gabriella's arm was splayed over Troy's chest, rising and falling to his steady breathing, while his left arm lingered at her waist and the other was used as her pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable position especially for Troy, seeing as they occupied probably a quarter of the bed but their faces looked surprisingly relaxed and content.

In the stillness of the room, a figure blocked the light from the window causing a shadow to loom at the foot of the bed. His silvery white brows curled as he observed the sleeping couple with skeptic eyes.

Last night when he arrived, he did not expect to find them awake and loitering in the hallway. He had intended to surprise them the next day—today of his presence and see first hand what the servants have been telling him about Troy and Gabriella living separately in the mansion.

It was no shocker when he learned that the two had a rift since moving in the mansion. Of course they have that gap. They're strangers thrust into each others presence. They hated each other the moment they clapped eyes. It was expected. The arranged marriage was not some dumb ass fairytale . . . anyone who believed it was, is the dumb ass. It was a complicated matter and it still is.

But as it turned out—when he came up the steps and saw them with their hands threaded together, their bodies leaning toward each other, whispering and affording glances that can only be described as tender and affectionate—he was the one surprised.

Carefully observing them last night, he was led to believe that they had grown fond of each other as evidenced by some sort of invisible connection he cannot really explain with words and there was an air of easy closeness between them that only couples with long standing relationships should have . . . and they are not in that category obviously.

He should be happy and satisfied that despite the forced marriage Troy and Gabriella seems to be getting along. And he is—or he will be when the doubt in his mind has been placated. Maybe it's his aging mind, his tenacity or years of experience to back his reasoning but he's sure something is not adding up.

If what the servants are claiming is true—which he's more inclined to believe since most of the household staff are under his employ and have been loyal to him for several years now—he's finding the drastic changes that happened between the two hard to consider.

At this point, it would have been more credible to him if they just admitted to being friends. Any awkwardness is justified. Because at least he knows they are working on fixing the huge gap between them when they were forced into the marriage. Friendship is an acceptable start in their case.

But no, they were cuddly, flirty . . . intimate last night. They were practically flaunting it before his eyes. And that made him conclude they were pretending—convincingly at that—for his sake. Or they are both horny young adults enjoying the excitement of constant sex in the context of marriage.

He's more likely to believe the former and besides from his observation last night, even though it looked like Gabriella _enjoys_ her time with Troy and allows such intimacies between them, there are moments . . . although quickly covered up . . . where she's tense and is a little reserved.

And that worried him. From the start, he liked Gabriella. But he also came to admire her strength and quiet confidence when he learned of what she's been through with her mother's unexpected death followed by the fissure with her father when he took a new wife then his death.

It was that rare quality she possessed amidst an emotional turmoil that convinced him she'll make an excellent wife for Troy, his only grandson, who once loved with all his heart only to have it broken and since then treated women like cheap trinkets . . . easily bought, disposable and replaceable.

More than the business benefits, they actually compliment each other on a personal level. It may take some time for them to realize it and it's probably too much to hope for considering the circumstances of their marriage but Patrick wanted to take his chances on the two of them.

In the space of a few minutes as he continued to stare at the figures on the bed, Patrick made a decision and slowly went over to Troy's side and nudged him awake. "Troy. Wake up."

Still half asleep, Troy groaned at the slight shaking of his body and unconsciously snuggled closer to the warmth next to him. The fogginess of his brain was a result of sleeping in the wee hours of the morning talking about tea to an inconsiderate old man.

"Troy." Patrick said louder this time and continued to shake Troy's arm.

Slowly, sleepy blue eyes fluttered open adjusting to the glaring light from the windows. He rubbed his eyes and began focusing them on the dark figure beside the bed that disturbed his peaceful slumber.

When his vision became clear, Troy jerked up in shock upon seeing his grandfather hovering over him. His sudden actions dislodged his arm under Gabriella's head causing her to rouse from her deep sleep as well. "Grandpa!" He groaned in irritation plopping back down on the mattress, the last remnants of sleepiness fading away from his brain. "Privacy, Grandpa! Ever heard of it?!"

"If you wanted privacy, you should have locked your door." The mulish old man reasoned.

"Locked or not, you don't just come inside somebody else's room! It's wrong."

"It's getting late. You're attending the shareholder's meeting." Patrick said, unconcerned of Troy's outburst and unapologetic of intruding into their privacy.

"Me?! You flew here to attend that meeting."

Patrick shuffled slowly around the bed, already making his way to the door. "I just appointed you my proxy. Now go get ready. The meeting is in one and half hours." He sounded like he issued an edict, leaving Troy no choice but to follow.

"What?! Where will you be?" Troy recognized the steadfastness in his grandfather's tone which only meant he will not listen to any objections, valid or not.

"Here. Where else? Call me when it's over."

Disoriented from being jolted awake, Gabriella shifted her body and tried her best to clear the drowsiness from her mind. She stayed up till morning typing away in Troy's computer about everything related to Tea. Her body and her eyelids were like dead weights but she was hearing indiscernible voices and the bed was getting a bit bouncy from someone's movement. "What's going on?" She mumbled, stretching her arms and legs.

"Just fucking great." Troy snorted angrily as Patrick exited the room and as if belatedly finding his sense of consideration, closed the door behind him.

Confusion was etched on Gabriella's sleepy face when she finally managed to open her eyes seeing Troy with an arm slung over his forehead and his lips stretched into a thin line. "Was someone here? I heard another voice."

"The annoying Patrick Reiss was just here to ruin a peaceful morning." He grumbled, flinging his arm off and turning on his side to face Gabriella.

Her eyes grew wide upon hearing about Patrick being in the room. Quickly scanning the premises, she unconsciously drew the blanket up to her chin; all kinds of crazy thoughts running in her head. "What? Oh my God! What'd he want?"

Her harried reaction vanished some of Troy's annoyance and the corners of his mouth lifted into a lazy smile. "He appointed me proxy for the shareholder's meeting. Totally spur of the moment decision, by the way, and I only have an hour."

"Why are you smiling when you obviously don't want to go? You were just frowning a second ago." She said with skepticism having relaxed considerably when she didn't see Patrick inside the room. "Are you always bipolar in the morning? Because if you are . . ."

Troy chuckled pulling the blanket from her grip then his muscled arms closed around her and flipped her under his weight. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"I might reconsider my decision of sleeping here."

"Like hell you will." He retorted with a smile and kissed the tip of her nose. His piercing blues ran over her face, lips and her messed up hair before meeting her brown eyes. She looked even more beautiful in the morning. He could get used to waking up like this. "What do you say about sharing our first good morning kiss?" He said in a husky tone.

Her face took on a serious look as if taking time to consider his suggestion then she placed her palms in a tender caress along his cheeks and studied his face, beginning with his tousled hair down to his perfectly shaped lips . . . brushing the soft skin gently.

Then in a teasing note, she quipped, "What's in it for me?"

Smirking, he shot back smartly, "Only one way to find out . . ."

_Why does it feel right waking up like this? _"That's a good idea."

Troy could no longer help himself. Her charming face, the teasing words and her touch did disturbing things to his body and with a groan, his lips descended on hers with tender passion.

Eyes closing, her mouth opened to receive his kiss, loosing herself within seconds in the zealous feeling only he can stir up from her. His arms tightened more firmly, slipping inside the waistband of her shorts to rest on her lace covered bottom and spanning his palms to lift up her hips to meet the hardened ridge between his thighs. He rocked against her once or twice in a suggestive movement that made Gabriella vibrantly aware of his arousal.

Once she molded her body against him, the kiss went from sweetly coaxing to seductively electrifying in a snap. His tongue plunged into her mouth, probing with expert thoroughness and demanding her participation while the wide palms on her buttocks asserted themselves in an eager caress.

But as he wet the soft skin on her neck with the tip of his tongue, slipped a hand over her right breast under the soft fabric of her shirt and the other moved from her butt to stroke her covered but sensitive front; fingers tracing the edge of her lace underwear seeking the moist flesh, she swallowed thickly then said, "Troy . . . I hate to say this . . . but we have to stop."

His chestnut head popped up from its place in the crook of her neck to look down at her with smoldering eyes but his hand stilled its caress. "Stop?"

Clearing her drugged mind, she swallowed again before clarifying. "You are going to be late if we keep this up. Grandpa might—"

"Troy! Time is ticking!" Patrick's voice boomed through the closed door followed by one loud knock. "Don't even think about being late."

Gabriella quirked an amused brow at Troy's thoroughly disgusted face. "See? Right on cue."

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he gave her one last kiss before grudgingly withdrawing his hands from the insides of her clothes then he pushed himself off the bed. Gabriella rolled over on her belly once his weight was gone, hugged a pillow beneath one cheek and peered up at him gawkily walking towards the bathroom.

Even as she smiled and teased and responded to his wonderful assault on her senses, the thought of nights and mornings to come when Patrick would no longer be a nuisance to Troy or a plausible excuse for her to stop their make outs is something she's been thinking of . . . but in a good way.

She had always believed Troy's motive on their relationship was mostly for sexual reasons but last night when he said he'd wait for her—words she never expected or hoped to hear from him—logic flew out the door and her heart warmed like never before.

And after learning that he has abstained for more than three months because of her, she had to admit her resolve regarding sex began to gradually change. Maybe she shouldn't torture herself into thinking too much of their situation. Maybe she's ready . . .

Maybe tomorrow will take care of itself. It always does.

When Troy came out of the bathroom a while later, relieved, bathed and refreshed from his lack of sleep, he found Gabriella back asleep, hugging a pillow where his body laid earlier.

His feet carried him over to the bed and he sat next to her sleeping frame, admiring the lovely face illuminated by the coral rays of the sun. His hand reflexively reached out to sweep back from her cheek the tousled curls that fell there.

For the longest time, since Julie, there wasn't a woman whom he allowed to sleep in his bed. He became quite territorial of his room and his bed after the nasty break up. He doesn't want any lingering memories in his own space because then he would have lost the only sanctuary available to him when he needs to separate himself from the outside world.

It was always him staying in the woman's bed and leaving as soon as the act was done. There was no point in hanging around. After all, he was only after the sexual pleasure. When he gets it, it's time to move on.

This is the first time that he got to spend the night with a woman and watch her sleep on his bed the morning after. But the irony of it is he didn't even have sex with her. And yet, despite his unfulfilled sexual urges which she's also the cause of, he was surprisingly okay with it.

Hypnotized by the rhythm of her breathing, he sat there a little bit longer just staring at the lush lashes that cast a shadow on her glowing skin, her semi parted lips and the overall peacefulness of her face. Then with an unconscious smile, he whispered, _"Gabriella Bolton." _

* * *

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Patrick had said to Gabriella over an hour ago. It wasn't like she could say no to him so she decided work should take a back step and spend a few hours with Troy's grandfather instead.

But at the moment, they were still walking. After_ touring_ inside the mansion, except her room, and engaging in small pointless sometimes funny talks, they were now in the well tended garden that made up most of the back area of the property still having that walk he suggested.

Coming out of Troy's room earlier, she was greeted by a smiling Patrick when she was about to head to her own room. He was standing in the hallway exactly on the middle point where the two wings of the mansion met that there was no way Gabriella could have missed or avoided him. She doesn't know how long he must have been standing there supported only by his trusty cane but she had a funny feeling he was waiting for her with good reason.

Her prior concern about covering up the hickey Troy gave her last night was quickly forgotten. He wants to talk to her. That she knew for sure. The walking is merely a tool to lighten the mood or probably a way to ease into a more serious conversation without coming on too intimidating. Whatever it was, she knew Patrick will make it known when he decides to.

In the meantime while following along Patrick's slow steps, she let her eyes rove the three acre garden at the back of the mansion which was designed with spectacular architecture that would please anyone's eyes.

Artfully planted rows of multi colored flowers lined the concrete walk all over the garden as well as lush greenery, cherry trees and yews and other attractive plants available on earth. Every shrub was incredibly well kept that one would think the gardener also works as a beautician.

Walking past the redwood benches placed strategically along the walk, past the man-made pond and the gazebo which is the center of the entire landscape, Gabriella wondered where Patrick intended to rest from their continuous tour of the property and when he would start talking to her about his real concerns.

She didn't have to wonder long though. Patrick stopped next to the ash tree on the far side of the lawn and sat himself on the redwood bench that was shaded by the tall tree. "Come sit with me, Gabriella." He said, showing no obvious signs of fatigue.

"I love gardens." He added once she sat next to him. "It smells so invigorating, doesn't it?"

For lack of anything to say, Gabriella nodded. She fixed a smile for Patrick and waited for him to start revealing his purpose for dragging her all over the property. She kept a cool outlook but inside she was really nervous mainly because Troy is not around to act as buffer when things gets difficult.

She knew last nights jovial discussion was not enough to satiate Patrick's mind. And what a mind he has! More than inquisitive, astute, tenacious . . . just more than everything, which makes him scary especially if you have something to hide just like her.

"This garden was my idea." He averred, leaning back on the bench and staring ahead. "I knew you are into photography, an artist, and I thought having a beautiful garden would help with your creative spirit."

"Oh . . ." Okay, maybe Patrick isn't out to get her. Maybe she thought too much of his actions. Maybe he was satisfied by her answers last night. "Thank you, Grandpa. That was very nice of you." She said, easing up on her nerves, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "I always did take scenery shots when I have the time and it makes for a good backdrop too."

Off to their right, the sprinkler system had come on. "Yes." He said in a monotone, throwing a quick glance at the spewing water then staring straight again. "The view from your room must be quite breathtaking especially with that balcony. Those huge glass windows in Troy's room doesn't even compare, I assume."

Absentmindedly she nodded, her gaze fixed on the sprinkler. "I love that balcony. It makes my room airy and cozy. Mornings are extra lovely too. The colors of the garden is so vibrant and—" She paused immediately, realizing that she had just confirmed to Patrick that the spot in the house he was staring at is indeed her room.

She wanted to slap herself. The word stupid should be written across her forehead. She had fallen into an old man's trap! And she didn't even see it coming.

Her worried eyes swung hastily at him and she nearly fainted when she saw that he had stopped staring at the house and is now looking at her with an all knowing grin on his weathered face. "Grandpa . . . that's my work room." She quickly claimed hoping to salvage her mistake. "Yes, my work room where I work sometimes with photographs . . . you know, _work_ room."

Gabriella knew it was the lamest explanation ever, but the meaningful grin on his face seem to have shrunk her ability to think and her ability to utter a proper sentence. Inwardly, she groaned and fought against the wild urge to flee from the bench to hide herself from Patrick's unsettling stare.

But where will she hide? They had toured the house earlier. He knows every room, every nook and cranny and every servant. _He's got everything planned out!_

"I've been described many ways, Gabriella. Old, stubborn, a little crazy. And all those are true, by the way. But what I am most is perceptive. Call it a gift or a talent. I just am." Patrick said casually.

He didn't sound angry or annoyed which Gabriella took as a good sign. "T—Troy said you are . . . perceptive, Grandpa."

"Good. So now we understand each other?"

"Y—yes . . . I think so."

"Last night must have been uncomfortable for you sleeping in Troy's bed for the first—"

Her mouth went ahead of her and cut him off. "I've slept there several times." Then she bit her lip and averted her gaze, belatedly berating herself for keeping up with the untruth she and Troy agreed to say.

"I see." He commented but Gabriella could detect the suspicion in his voice. _Who was she kidding?!_ It would take a lot more than her words to convince him. Maybe if she showed him the hickey . . . _oh forget it!_ She's not that bold and besides it will only prove that last night they made out.

A slight sense of apprehension seems to creep up her spine and immediately she began thinking of a plausible excuse to explain to him the need for the lie but Patrick's next words completely blew her mind away. "So then, there would be no problem for you answering this question: Is the rest of his body as conditioned as his lips?"

Her jaw just about dropped at a staggering velocity to the cemented path and crashed into tiny bits rendering it a useless part for speech. The question echoed back and forth inside her ears amplified each time it bounces back hurting her eardrums.

But Patrick seems to be unaware of Gabriella's astonishment. In the same languid voice, he continued to relate, "A couple of ladies during my plane ride here were reading a magazine with Troy's picture in it. I heard them ask that question. I would have answered them, if I could, but obviously I don't know. I'm just the grandfather. It would look weird if I knew the answer and besides I'm not really interested in knowing." He unflappably said. "You on the other hand would surely know such details since you're the wife and as you claim, has been sleeping with him several times now. And when I say sleeping, I mean _sleeping after a job well done_."

Gabriella closed her eyes and silently prayed for . . . she doesn't know what she should be praying for exactly. Patrick just managed to impair her brain of reasonable thoughts and left her with no other option except admitting the truth. With a hopeless sigh, she said, "It's useless for me to keep denying, isn't it?"

"Entirely up to you, Gabriella." He bluntly declared, but his lips were showing a winning smile. "I am old and my eyes blurry but I'm not blind or stupid. I know last night was the first time you shared a bed."

"I'm impressed by your perceptiveness, Grandpa." She admitted with a wobbly smile.

"Perceptiveness has nothing to do with it."

She eyed him askance. "What . . . is it?"

He grinned, looking several years younger. "I saw you last night sneaking in the hallway to get to your room and lugging your things to Troy's room. Of course, the conclusion to that is obvious and besides Troy's room doesn't have a single touch of femininity in it. It was all him even the smell."

Gabriella collapsed back on the bench, laughing softly. "Is this why you let Troy attend the meeting? To coerce me into admitting the truth?

"Coerce is such a strong word. I prefer to use talk. Talk you into admitting."

"Ah, okay." She said, giggling. "Sneakily talk me into admitting."

"Yes." He agreed. "That meeting is really boring, though. Makes me catatonic just listening to those people blabber. Troy can handle it. Besides, this is so much better, isn't it?"

She shot him a wary glance. "Which is better? You not attending the meeting or me admitting the truth?"

"Very clever. But it's both." He said with a chuckle. Then he paused, his face suddenly turning somber along with his voice. "Gabriella, I know the marriage was difficult to accept for both of you that's why no one in the family expected anything . . . anything like what I saw last night. I also didn't come here to play cupid—I'm too old for that sort of shit. I'd rather see you two being civil to each other while working on the relationship than magically jump right into being intimate. But you two were really good pretending like a couple. Had me convinced for a moment."

Gabriella's couldn't help but smile pleasantly as she turned her face at Troy's grandfather. "Grandpa, we weren't pretending."

Patrick hesitated, narrowing his eyes—his perceptiveness at work. But as he stared at her twinkling eyes coupled with the soft smile on her lips, what he saw was honesty and playful haughtiness because for once he assumed wrong. He leaned back on the bench and breathed a laugh that sounded like he was happy to be mistaken. "Well then . . . I stand corrected."

She accepted that with a nod. "Troy and I are friends now, Grandpa. We haven't crossed that line yet but who knows, maybe next month or next week . . . or _tomorrow . . ._"

"I feel better knowing that."

"Just please don't say anything about this to my stepmother." Gabriella said as a plea, her eyes imploring him to understand.

He frowned, a little bewildered by her tone. Then, as if dismissing the thought, he said, "Just between you and me, Gabriella, I never really liked Marissa. The word creepy comes to mind."

Her face shone with relief and with a thankful smile she flung her arms at Patrick in a hug. "Grandpa, you are so adorable!"

* * *

Troy felt like shit. The meeting was the most boring and dragging meeting he ever attended. It had old men in attendance and some of them disturbed his sense of smell and others were so old they had to be reminded where they were every five minutes or so.

His grandfather should have attended that damn meeting. He would have fit right in. He, on the other hand, looked conspicuous sitting amongst the oldies. They were so fucking old that most of them actually believed he was Patrick Reiss wearing a hip business suit and looking six decades younger.

To make it all worse, in the middle of a discussion about a certain shareholder who sold his stock to an unfavorable individual, Troy's sleepiness decided to come back full force. He tried his best fighting off the temptation to close his eyes and at the same time still listen to the ongoing talk on the table in case his grandfather decides to ask a detailed account of what transpired.

As a result, the small throb in his temple when he left the house that morning became a terrible headache and kept getting worse and worse as the day wore on. By afternoon, he heard himself cough, his voice became raspy and then chills racked his body. That's when he made the decision to go home . . . screw the meeting.

Arriving in the mansion, he fought a wave of dizziness as he went in search of Gabriella and his grandfather who according to the butler were both in the salon. He leaned against the door frame to regain some energy before going inside to make his presence known.

But once he stepped in, Troy was almost certain he was seeing strange things because of his rotten illness. The vision before him was so weird and so wrong on many levels. Patrick was seated on a cinnamon upholstered bench wearing a cap on backwards, a loose shirt, a red and black jacket, track pants and running shoes that all belonged to Troy and he was diligently posing in front of Gabriella who was excitedly snapping away with the camera.

"What the hell are you two doing?" He retorted, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.

Gabriella whirled around in surprise, her face wreathed in smiles and her eyes alive with cheerfulness. "Troy! You're back." She greeted, placing the camera on a square side table striding over to him. Patrick remained seated on the bench as a silent spectator.

She grabbed his arm pulling him further inside the room but suddenly stopped, eyed him with a strange frown searching his haggard face before commenting, "You're hot."

"So I've been told but thanks." He drawled, forehead creasing as another wave of dizziness assailed him.

"No, I mean you're really hot!"

He moved closer to her and weakly wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders to support his weight. "I'm flattered as hell, babe."

"Troy!" She scolded with a hint of worry in her voice. "You're burning up. Are you sick?"

He nodded. "Like shit."

Patrick shook his head in disappointment and he voiced it aloud for Gabriella to hear. "So much for _tomorrow."_

* * *

A/N: Thank you so so much for the awesome reviews. I hope you'll like this chapter too. Not much TG here but this is a necessary chapter. _To **sheena** aka **RCEXPRESS**, you really made my day! that's so sweet of you to catch up on reviewing every chapter and i like that you point out scenes in the chapters. it's so fun reading your reviews. thank you . . . really!_


	11. Chapter 11 Caring

Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer:** As usual. . .don't own a thing._

* * *

"Stop pushing that vile stuff to my mouth!" Troy rasped disgustedly eyeing the spoonful of dark green liquid Gabriella was urging him to take.

She frowned at his stubborn tone but persisted, climbing the bed to straddle his waist to pin him in place careful not to spill the liquid. "Gabi, I appreciate you straddling me like this but not while forcing me to take that foul smelling liquid. It ruins the moment." Troy said with a groan, grabbing a pillow to cover his face.

"It's for your cough! Get your mind out of the gutter just this once and take this." She clamored, past being cajoling. For twenty minutes, she's been urging him to take the cough medicine but Troy proved to be hard headed saying he only needs water and some rest to get over his illness. "If you don't take this, I'll force you to take castor oil."

Troy flung the pillow off and barked a nasty sounding cough. "Castor oil is a laxative, Gabriella!" He said after his coughing subsided, narrowing his eyes at her. "Are you sure you want to make me feel better? Or are you here to play a prank on me while I don't have any energy to fight back?"

She shook her head and her lips turned up into a funny little smile. "I'm kidding, Troy. You're being such a kid with taking a simple cough medicine. I want you to feel better."

"Cough _syrups_ are for kids. I will take a capsule or tablet form of cough medicine." He argued, still averting his face from the spoon hovering close to his mouth.

"Liquid medicines take effect faster than the solid ones."

"How do you know this exactly? Have you taken care of a sick person before?"

"No." She admitted but there was a sound of protest in her voice when he raised an impatient brow. "But Mrs. Lewis said it works that way and you can't argue about her experience with sick people. Grandpa seconded her reasoning."

"God!" He exclaimed, raising both arms heavenward then letting them fall to his chest when he coughed again. "Why is everyone against me in this house?!"

Ignoring his dramatics, she slipped a hand on his nape to support him to prop up against the pillows by the headboard of the bed and lifted the spoon close to his mouth again. "Please?" She entreated with a girlish pout.

Looking at her imploring eyes which he could have sworn showed an indication of worry; Troy heaved a defeated sigh and after letting a wave of dizziness pass, sat up against the pillows. "Only you." He grumbled but there was no trace of irritation or anger in his voice.

She smiled and carefully slipped the spoon between his open lips. He winced at the ugly taste and swallowed, immediately grabbing the glass of water Gabriella handed to wash out the taste of medicine. He emptied the glass in one swig before handing it back to her and leaned back against the pillows weakly wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Satisfied, Gabriella moved from her straddled position but Troy quickly grabbed her hips back in place. "Stay." He ordered. When she was about to protest he added in a gentle voice, "Please."

"You have to rest, Troy."

"You promised you'd sleep here. My being sick doesn't change a thing." He closed his eyes in weariness adjusting his body so that he lay comfortably on the bed but he tightened his hands on her hips. "And I will rest better with you here."

"Why do you have to be so cute? It's impossible to say no to you." She said it in way that sounded like she was exasperated by his request but Troy sensed the humor in her tone even without seeing the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

After replacing the empty glass and spoon on the tray atop the square side table, she slid from his hips to sit on her legs next to his chest. "Thank you." Troy said as her hand reached up to his temples and fingers began moving to massage his head. The motion of her fingers made him sigh and relax deeper into the soft pillows, slowly soothing the throb in his head.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping in my room, Troy. You're sick. What kind of a wife would I be if I don't take care of you?" She told him matter-of-factly. It would appear her attention is focused on the massage she was doing but in truth she can't seem to stop touching him. "Unless you change your mind."

"Why would I change my mind?" He murmured, his hand crept up to rest on her thighs and began lethargically caressing the skin just below the hem of her shorts sending a jolt of sensation to run through Gabriella's nerve endings.

She shrugged forcing to ignore his hand drawing indistinct figures on her skin and voiced out teasingly, "Because I'm making you drink cough syrup."

"For you, that's an unpleasantness I'm willing to take." The words seem to flow out of his mouth. It gave Gabriella a feeling that he had enough practice saying that to many women.

She chuckled softly, trying her best not to let his words affect her. "You have a way with words, Troy. I give you that. Even an illness can't dampen your enigmatic side. I don't blame the ladies for wanting to be _associated_ with you."

Without a moments pause, he said in a yielding voice, "You are the only lady associated with me, Gabi."

_At the moment._ Her mind reminded out of nowhere. But she paid no heed to the voice and smiled at him not knowing what to say.

He opened his eyes after a minute when she did not come up with a witty comeback and eyed her strangely. "That's it? No—yeah right, Troy or you're only saying that coz' you want to have sex with me?"

His voice was soft and weak but Gabriella could see from his face that he wanted a reaction from her. "Are you—are you saying that because of sex?" She asked, intently watching his handsome face that was nestled on the fluffy pillow but she did not stop massaging his head.

He shifted sideways and took hold of her hips, motioning her to lie down next to him. When she stretched out on the bed by his side, he held her face close so that they were staring eye to eye and he said in a firm voice that was meant to erase any doubt from her mind, "No."

And it did. The simple no made her cheeks feel warm and her already erratic pulse became even more jumpy. For whatever reason, she let out an inaudible sigh of both relief and pleasure. She knew, if he asked her right now to have sex with him, she would say yes. In fact, the idea has been bothering her since last night.

However, it's probably not the right time. Partially because he's sick and her main concern at the moment is to make him well but mostly because she realized earlier _honeymooning_ at this time, with Patrick still in the house and Troy being so busy with work, isn't really what she'd consider _romantic_.

She's fairly certain she wants her first time with Troy romantic . . . whatever that entails.

Sure, she had been touched before by her exes but the tide of sensations Troy evokes when he touches her is an entirely different experience for her. Wonderful would be the word she'd use. Yet, it seems not even enough to describe how he really makes her feel.

She doesn't want to go far afield in finding reasons for whatever feelings are involved in her decision since the terms of their relationship still hasn't changed. She's just willing to overlook all her reservations and enjoy her passion for Troy. She's entitled to that and besides it was getting harder and harder to resist him . . . she's only human after all.

Earlier, when she was taking pictures of Patrick, thoughts of consummating their marriage crossed her mind time and again. Her mind kept thinking back to their make out sessions that it became an effort to keep her self from blushing in front of the old man.

Who knows what out of this world comment he would have said if he noticed how her mind was wandering to his grandson . . . although, she reckoned, he probably would have been pleased by the direction of her thoughts.

And Troy would have been too if he wasn't so sick to notice the excitement on her face when he came home earlier. Admittedly, she was a little dampened by him being sick. She was actually looking forward to tonight, almost certain that their make outs will end with sex. That thought alone made her heart race and her body quiver animatedly.

But she got a hold of herself and immediately felt like a wench for thinking about sex when she should have been worried for Troy. She had silently berated herself then shoved all thoughts of sex aside to take care of her husband.

The thought came creeping back into her head though. There's something about being this close to him, his eyes 4hazy from the heat of his fever, his hair slightly messed up but nevertheless still showing a charming side that arouses her senses.

_Who's horny now? _Her mind asked. And again she had to shake off the thought.

Smiling, she pushed her face closer and kissed his forehead gently. He was so close to her that she could study each of his eyelashes and see the intense blue of his eyes that looked like had specks of grey and black in them, probably from the reflection of the light in the room. _"It should be a crime for a man to have such mesmerizing eyes."_ She thought to herself.

He chuckled quietly. "No one has ever told me that before."

"I—said it—_aloud_?!" She gasped, wide eyed and slightly flustered by her own inattentiveness leaning away from him to see the boyish smirk on his face. _Stop thinking about sex! He's sick you idiot._

"I don't mind."

"Of course, you don't! Anything to fuel your innate arrogance is always welcome." She pinched his arm as her cheeks grew hot in sudden embarrassment.

"Ouch!" He cried, jerking his arm away from her fingers and engulfing her hand in his. "I'm sick, Gabi. I need tender loving care not to be pinch to death."

_Tender loving care sounds nice. Get a hold of yourself, Gabriella! _She rolled her eyes pretending to be annoyed but her lips couldn't help but twitch in a guilty smile. "My goodness, you are demanding!"

Troy did not quip back smartly. Instead he smiled at her and carefully drew her small frame close for a hug so that Gabriella's face was pressed against his warm chest. "Being sick sucks." He griped quietly. "This is your second night here with me and I end up ill. I'm a lousy husband."

Gabriella didn't know if he realized it but he has a way of saying words that sound so sweet at the most unexpected moments. Her attraction to him is growing along with attachment but instead of squirming away like she usually would, she welcomes it with an open mind.

The doubt in her head about their marriage had been slowly ebbing since they became friends. And a huge chunk of it chipped off when she had the talk with Patrick. She doesn't have to worry that much anymore—well, she does but only where Marissa was concerned.

And right now, that particular concern seems too remote to happen. Marissa is most likely enjoying herself with her father's fortune and has forgotten about her, which is working well in her favor.

"I wouldn't say that." She whispered to his chest, feeling the heat seeping from it because of his fever. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to be a proper wife and take care of my sick husband."

His brows furrowed and tilted her chin up to stare at her face. Confusion was etched on his expression and he also looked shocked by what she said. "First you say I'm cute then my eyes mesmerizing. Now you want to be a proper wife? Not that I'm complaining, Gabi, but . . . am I missing something here?" He asked suspiciously. "What happened with you and Grandpa while I was in the meeting?"

"Nothing!" She replied pulling an innocent look. "You should go to sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up."

He seemed to read her facial expression for a moment, then when his drowsy mind couldn't come up with a proper explanation for the sudden change in her—vibe or is it outlook?—gave up on figuring her out and relented, "Yeah. I should probably sleep this off."

"Good." She inched away from him so that he can rest comfortably on the bed. Pulling the covers up to his waist, she felt his forehead with the back of her hand and kissed his cheek. "I'll wake you up after four hours. You have to take medicine for your fever."

He nodded with a weak smile then his eyes slowly drifted close. After some minutes, Gabriella let out relieved sigh while watching his breathing begin to even out. She was in imminent danger of jumping him. She never expected her attraction—desire for him to be this strong once she let's go of her self-possession.

It's completely out of character for her to desire someone this bad and at this inopportune time. It was like Troy switched something on inside her body during their make outs that's making her think like a sexually promiscuous woman.

Feeling the sudden need to put some distance between her and a sleeping Troy, Gabriella carefully moved off the bed and quietly crept out of the room to find her cellphone. At times like this, Sharpay would be the one to call.

Once she found her phone on the rectangular table in the second floor hallway, she quickly dialed Sharpay's number and waited for her to answer after five long rings. "Why hello Gabriella Montez! You finally remembered me." Sharpay said a bit derisively. "I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth with that husband of yours."

"Shar, don't be such a drama queen." Gabriella rebuked with a laugh. "I'm sorry I haven't called you in awhile. But I texted you often, didn't I? I've been busy and I'm sure you are too."

She heard Sharpay yawn, intentional or not, she didn't try to hide it. "I'm always busy but I make time for friends, Montez. My texts are actual sentences not one-liners . . . like what some people text." She huffed but Gabriella knew her friend well to be aware that it's all part of Sharpay's dramatics.

"Sharpay, I'm sorry. Things have been a little crazy lately." Gabriella said sincerely then she added on a jest, "I'm on my knees, begging you to forgive me."

"How do I know you're on your knees? Don't get smart with me Gabs."

"Okay. I guess I shouldn't have called—"

"Fine. I forgive you." Sharpay conceded and Gabriella almost laughed out loud but did her best to smother the sound from escaping past her lips.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a great friend, I know." She muttered impatiently then Gabriella heard a door banging before Sharpay said, "So, it's been weeks, what's been going on between you and husband dearest? Did Bolton throw you on the floor and fucked you senseless already?"

Gabriella's brown orbs grew wide and she gasped. Is she really that desperate for Troy that even Sharpay who can't see her can sense it? _What kind of sexual bug has gotten into her?!_ "No, Sharpay." She mumbled. "Nothing like that or even close to it."

"What the hell is that man waiting for?!"

"Me."

There was a short pause on the other end and then a sound of water running. "Well then, what are you waiting for?"

"Him."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done to my friend?" Sharpay retorted, altogether confused and impatient. "Gabriella Montez makes sense when I talk to her. He's waiting for you and you're waiting for him?"

"Yes."

"I get why he's waiting for you but you—why are you waiting for him? Does _little or big junior_ Troy need _prepping_ before he can perform? My opinion of him just went down several notches—I swear."

"He needs TLC."

"Tomato, lettuce and uhh . . . catsup? Whatever for?" Sharpay said in an incongruous voice. "Weird much."

"Tender loving care! Are you being intentionally dense? He's sick, Sharpay."

Sharpay exhaled an exasperated breath and the sound of water stopped in the background. "Sick as in sick or sick as in he has sexually transmitted disease? If it's STD, I suggest you start looking for another man. I don't care how rich, handsome or how good he is in bed. It's not worth getting STD for."

Gabriella almost choked in her laughter, widely looking along the hallway for any servant who maybe passing by. In a hushed tone, she explained, "He has a fever and cough, Sharpay. He's been stressed with work and Grandpa is also here—"

"Stop." Sharpay commanded, immediately ceasing her explanation. A door closing was heard again and an indiscernible voice of someone else talking.

"Is there someone with you? Who was that?" Gabriella couldn't help but ask.

"It's the radio." Sharpay replied easily. Then went back to the topic. "Correct me if I'm wrong . . . are you telling me that you're finally ready to have sex with Bolton but he comes home sick and unable to get physical with you?"

"Yeah . . ." Gabriella whispered, suddenly uneasy with the conversation.

Sharpay made a clicking sound with her tongue and Gabriella can almost see her shaking her blond head in disappointment. "You—how bad?"

She cupped a hand over her mouth and groaned into the mouthpiece. "I think . . . it's bad." She affirmed. "This has never happened to me before. But he's really sick. I'm sure sex is not in his head right now and even if it is, he doesn't have the strength."

"That bad, huh?"

"Like a craving for food."

A peal of unexpected laughter echoed thru the phone. "You've got it bad, Gabs!"

"Yes, it's bad. We've established that!"

"So what's the problem? You've got it bad. Do something about it."

"Stop saying bad! I don't want to want him at this time. His grandfather is here. He has this tendency to interrupt and barge into our room. Can you imagine being caught in the middle of sex by a seventy year old man?! " She whined in agitation. "I feel like an inconsiderate human being for even thinking of sex when he's sick . . . I'm worse than a wench!"

"You're overreacting. That's bad." Sharpay averred dismissively. "Here's what you do, first, lock your door to keep nosy old man out and as additional measure, place a heavy table or cabinet against the door just in case. Then tell Bolton you want him and I'm sure he'll get over his illness quickly."

"I can't do that! I'm not that daring. I'd rather he make the first move. Will you stop saying bad!"

Sharpay snorted and in bored tone, she offered, "Well then, _May the force be with you_. You need it—_badly_."

* * *

Throughout the night, Troy's coughing tugged him from a drugged slumber to a state of on and off awareness of his surroundings. Slightly shifting his body sideways, he forced his eyes open to see that it was already morning judging from the brightness peeking in between the draperies.

Turning his face on the pillow, his eyes found the round clock hanging on the wall left of the bed that indicated it was 7:00. Trying to clear his head, he immediately concluded he's still sick based on his weariness and aching muscles although, it's no longer as bad as yesterday.

Memories of last night came drifting back slowly. He remembered that each time he coughs Gabriella's small hand would find its way on his chest moving in a circular motion that somehow soothed his discomfort. He was also awakened at certain hours to take more medicine and at one point he recalled his shirt was changed because he was drenched in sweat when his fever had broken.

His hand reached up to feel his forehead and was pleased to know the fever is indeed gone. He turned abruptly to the other side of the bed to see if Gabriella was still next to him but instantly winced at the throb that resurfaced in his temples. In slow movements, he shifted again and managed a smile when he saw Gabriella sprawled out on her stomach peacefully sleeping.

He knew she was exhausted from waking up every so often the entire night to make sure he takes his medicine on time and to check if he was having the chills or perspiring from the effect of the fever medicine.

Wifely. That's how she was last night. And despite the fuzziness of his mind, he couldn't help but feel so damn pleased because she stayed with him all night. Whether her actions rooted from a sense of obligation or out of the kindness of her heart, he doesn't care. She took care of him when she doesn't really need to and that's all that matters.

He inched closer to her sleeping frame and gently smoothed a hand along the length of her silky curls. He was touched beyond belief by her wifely actions probably because being cared for by a woman other than his mother has never happened to him before.

It also amazes him how of all the women he had in his life after Julie, Gabriella is the only one who accepted him and gave him a chance at friendship even when he was behaving badly towards her.

Even before his grandfather arrived, he already felt attached to her somehow. He couldn't stop thinking about her and he knows sex has nothing to do with it. He looks forward to being able to see her everyday, be the recipient of that jaunty sideways smile of hers or hear the infectious sound of her giggles. And his day wouldn't be complete without having to tangle his fingers in her glorious mane. He had been acting like a smitten boy and he can't do anything to stop it.

The question is, does he want to stop it?

A part of him is saying yes because he went down this road before with Julie. She was his everything, even planning a future together but look where that ended. He swore he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Never let a woman know they own your heart . . . they toy with it for amusement and dispose of it once they get bored.

And that's the part that hurts. It almost drives you insane.

Yet, another side of his logic is telling him not to stop . . . that Gabriella is different. The circumstances in which they met were different. There hasn't been a profession of love between them. in fact, love is never mentioned in their relationship. They are friends in a marriage that benefits them both. It's a practical arrangement that will end in five years—legally agreed upon and it will be an expected separation.

No one gets hurt . . . hopefully.

A jarring sound erupted from the cellphone on the side table interrupting Troy's trail of thought. Then Gabriella automatically roused from her sleep, her hand blindly reaching out to press a button on the phone to stop the annoying tone.

She turned over on her back and stretched, opening her eyes to look at Troy. Instead of a sleeping Troy, she was greeted by alert blue eyes and a handsome smile that looked infinitely better than last night. "Good morning." He chirped in less raspy voice, running his fingers through her tousled curls.

"How are you feeling?" She propped up on an elbow and checked his temperature, smiling when she felt his cool forehead.

"Better. Thanks to you." He said, letting his hand slide down from her hair to stroke her arm then threaded their fingers together.

She covered her mouth and yawned, smiling sheepishly after. "You're welcome but you have to take cough syrup again."

"Okay." He agreed at once, releasing her hand to prop up on the bed and reach for the medicine on the tray. "I'll do it."

Leaning back in surprise, she broke into a grin at his sudden eagerness to drink the cough syrup that he referred to as disgusting last night. "Are you sure you're feeling better?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She shook her head, amusedly staring at him gulp down the dark green liquid like he's loving the taste of it. "Nothing . . ." She sat up and swung her legs on the side of the bed. "I'll just go and bring you breakfast. I asked Mrs. Lewis last night to prepare something for you."

"I'm not hungry." He said after drinking water, sinking back on the bed. He gently pulled her back in against his chest and engulfed her in an embrace.

"Troy?" She asked, slightly tensing from his sudden touch but she adjusted her body so that her weight wasn't pressing down on him. "Is something wrong? You have to eat to get your strength back."

He shook his head slowly, gazing into her eyes as though he could find an answer in the brown depths. "Gabi, you're tired, lacking in sleep and you have to go to work later. Why did you take care of me?"

The question surprised her. He could tell from the curling of her brows. "You mean—I shouldn't have taken care of you?"

"That's not what I mean. You willingly went through all that trouble all night just for me. I'm touched and thankful beyond words, Gabi." He clarified, stroking her smooth cheek then her neck in a tender gesture that was slowly sending a thrill down Gabriella's body. "But I honestly wasn't expecting it because you really didn't have to and I know you also need your energy today for work so I'm curious—why do all that for me?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, as if making an important decision. After a long pause she opened her eyes, and Troy was somewhat taken aback by how much emotion was reflected in her clear brown eyes. "Because I c-care . . . I care about you, Troy . . . that's why." She admitted shyly, down casting her vision after she said the words.

The timid admission sent Troy's pulse racing like wild animals in a stampede. He also closed his eyes briefly and sucked in a calming breath. He felt like he had been waiting to hear that from her and finally having her say it was like a prayer answered . . . and he doesn't even believe in praying. In a voice heavy with emotion, he said, "I care about you too, Gabi . . . very much."

She raised shining brown eyes to him and Troy could tell she was just as astonished as him. They never ever talked about their feelings. It was like a taboo topic for them. And it certainly wasn't something they both planned or expected their friendship to lead to. It was both scary and overwhelming, especially for him.

But now that it's out in the open and obviously they are very pleased by it, Troy couldn't help but consider all the conditions that are involved in their marriage. Will that change too? Does this mean all bets are off? With a bit of hesitation, unsure if she will still insist on the five year only marriage agreement, he asked, "Where do we go from here?"

"I'm not sure anymore, Troy." She replied on a shaky whisper, unconsciously pressing her body closer to his.

His arms enclosed around her tightly and he buried his face in the softness of her hair. "Neither am I, Gabi . . . _Neither am I._"

* * *

**A/N:** _First off, I'm so so sorry for the delay in update. I've been incredibly busy with work and I still am atm, it's not even funny. I had to squeeze writing this during my free time which is rare to come by actually. Anyway, I have to thank every single one of my amazing reviewers. 34 reviews in the last chapter! Wow, really guys...thank you so much._ _Grandpa is awesome, isn't he? Lol!_ _To_ _**jb1236**_ & **_sheena_**-_you never cease to surprise me with your well thought out review. It's very much appreciated. **And a special mention to kat(**aka kat03 or amazing!kat**) who kept asking jaime to make me update. **_;)

_Oh, kindly forgive grammar and typo errors if there are any. I don't have time to edit the chapter(actually I never edited any of the posted chapters). Well, I hope this chapter will be well received too. fingers crossed _:D


	12. Chapter 12 Unexpected

Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

Gabriella glanced about the room with a tinge of nervousness that she couldn't understand why she was feeling. Maybe it had to do with her current position, sitting across a wide glass office desk waiting for her stepmother to come into the room—the office of the president and CEO.

There was something so gloomy and cold about the silent office that was decorated in tones of grey, from light to nearly black, and the walls were hung with various art works, abstract and distinct ones that showed more lifeless colors of black and white. They were framed in shiny black wood, fronted in glass and hung on the vinyl covered wall opposite the office table.

The upholstered chairs, smoked glass tables and even the small bar at the far corner of the spacious office matched the walls. The expensive furniture, the arrangement of the office and even the smell of the air freshener in the room does not in any way spell welcoming.

It looked more like a display room for expensive jewelry than an actual office. In fact, even a rowdy kid when placed inside this office will feel like he's in a fully furnished solitary confinement chamber but cannot touch anything for risk of being given the death penalty.

In simple terms, it looked elegant but felt scary. Gabriella concluded that Marissa probably has an obsession with black and grey which even showed in her demeanor most of the time—which is also just as unpleasant and as suffocating as this room.

The last time Gabriella was her in father's office building was before he fell ill and at that time Antonio Montez's office looked very different—it was chrome and leather then and she remembered colorful modern art works hanging on the walls. Faintly, she wondered why Marissa changed the interior of the office almost like she wanted to forget the memory of her father.

Whatever it maybe, she doesn't really care much. Her concern at the moment is why she's been summoned here. When she received the call from Marissa's secretary that morning while she was getting dressed for work, her mind had been running afloat and wondering about this sudden call demanding her presence in the office. She had argued with the new secretary—her father's former secretary, she learned upon arriving here, was fired when Marissa took over the presidency—to just say what the purpose for the call was. But as it were, she was under strict orders from her boss to only relay such instructions.

Mostly out of curiosity, but of course against her better judgment, is the reason why she's even here. Getting impatient, she took a quick glance at the small digital clock sitting on one of the office tables laden with an assortment of books. Fifteen minutes. She's been waiting for fifteen freakin' minutes.

Maybe she should just go. But she at once ditched the idea aside. There had to be some important reason why she's been called in. Resignedly, she let her mind drift deciding to reconceptualize the shoot she was doing for InStyle magazine later . . . but her thoughts had other ideas as it instantly shifted to Troy.

She's been riding on cloud nine since that little confession they had the other day. At first she was hesitant—out of habit, because of her past experiences with people she cares about disappointing and hurting her in the end—to say what she's been feeling for him. But then he said it back and it was just as surprising as it was thrilling.

Troy Bolton cares for her . . . who would've thought? She certainly didn't but then again a lot of things have happened between them now that eight months ago she would have considered as ludicrous.

This morning he was back to his usual virile self and he wasted no time in exercising his energy . . .which intially excited her to no end.

"_Good morning." She chirped gaily, waking up to Troy's face looking down at her with his charmingly boyish smile. "All better?"_

"_Not just yet." He answered, his hand resting idly on her hip._

_She eyed him in bafflement, quickly checking his face for any sign of sickness but there was none. His color was back. His eyes were alert and overall he certainly didn't look weary anymore. "Not just yet?" She repeated. "Do you want me to . . . sing you a song? You know, for encouragement to get up in the morning."_

_With a grin, he retorted, "I didn't know you sing."_

"_Everybody sings. It's just a matter of whether it's in tune or not." She quipped back, sliding off the bed swiftly before he even realized she stood up._

_He sat up, keeping his cobalt gaze on her as she rounded the bed while gathering her messy hair in a loose bun. "Let's hear it!" He said. "I'm already intrigued."_

_She giggled and she moved out of his line of vision, making a quick sprint to the bathroom. But before she could close the door, Troy had pushed against it and easily wrestled his way inside. "Hey! I was here first. Wait for your turn." She protested teasingly._

"_Not until you sing a song." He advanced toward her and easily grabbed her waist, lifting her to sit on the long marbled space of the bathroom sink. "I'm not letting you go until I hear a song but make it snappy coz' I don't want to be late for work."_

_She yelped in surprise as the backs of her thighs connected with the cold marble but Troy kept her firmly in place while he stood between her legs. "Okay!" She relented, steadying her breathing as she tried to decide what song to sing. _

_A playful smirk broke over her lips as she mentally picked a song. "Here goes . . ." She made a show of prepping her vocal chords by rolling her shoulders, clearing her throat and making soft humming noises before she began to sing: _

_**Oh Mister Sun, Sun**_

_**Mister golden sun!**_

_**Please shine down on him**_

_Gabriella tried her best to keep a normal expression, singing like she's so into the song, and not burst out laughing while she directly held his gaze that was slowly acquiring a bamboozled look over her choice of song. But she still continued, rather enjoying herself in witnessing Troy's reaction._

_Oh Mister Sun, Sun_

_Mister golden sun!_

_Hiding behind a tree . . ._

_**Troy Bolton is asking you**_

_**To please shine down **_

_**So he can play with you**_

_Oh Mister Sun, Sun_

_Mister golden sun!_

_Please shine down on_

_Please shine down on him!_

_The air was utterly still when she finished the children's song. Troy's face was a picture of someone weirded out by what he had just seen. His brows were drawn straight, his head tipped to one side, his mouth agape and he was looking at her like she became another person._

"_There you go. A song. Did I sound okay?" She posed in an expectant tone as though his opinion mattered much to her but actually she was ready to erupt in laughter._

_Troy seemed to shake himself back to the present. "Oh yeah . . . wow . . . you sing very well!" He replied warily. "You have a really nice voice, Gabi."_

_Looking down at him due to the height of the bathroom counter that made her a few inches higher than his head, she gave him an over bright smile, laying her hands over his well defined shoulders. "You really think so? Thank you!"_

"_Yeah." He was unsure how to react. "Um—was that really a song or am I hallucinating again?"_

_Gabriella couldn't hold it any longer. Her hands flew over her already flushed face and she ruptured in hilarity. "You're just soo . . . just so—"_

_He wrenched her hands off her face and held it flat on the marble on either side of her hips, a gleam of menace in his eye. "Someday . . . just you wait woman."_

"_Come on Troy! How could you not know Mister Sun? And you have to admit it's an appropriate song in the morning."_

_He grunted incoherently and gave a cursory glance at her smiling lips, but immediately his piercing baby blues swung back to her. "I have other more appropriate things in mind."_

"_Like what?" She asked conscious of Troy's mercurial change of mood. _

_A long silence followed as if he was thinking, and she saw his eyes looking at her hair that was falling off the loose knot then at her profile. "Like this . . ." The hands encasing hers on the marble top lifted, then one found her nape to draw her face down close . . . moving her lips closer and closer to his._

_His lips were soft and appealing as he tipped his head to the side and moved it in a lazy, seductive motion back and forth over her pliant lips. He leaned even closer and his restless hands stopped on her hips, pulling her in tightly. _

_His warm tongue circled her lips sending tiny shudders over her entire body and it didn't take long before her lips parted and answered his tongue with a willing response. The kiss grew warmer and more arousing steadily as it went on. But in the midst of it Gabriella suddenly felt her world tilt and realized she was being lifted off the marble to stand on the bathroom floor._

_Then, in one deft motion, her shirt had slid up exposing her breasts to his questing hands and mouth. She leaned toward him softly moaning, running her fingers through his chestnut hair reveling in the wonderful feelings he was stirring in her body, realizing that she's been missing this—so much—for two days._

_And as if sensing her thoughts, Troy voiced out throatily, "I missed this—I missed us like this."_

_Gabriella nodded unable to force a sound past her lips. He smiled that seductively charming smile of his and his eyes twinkled as he lowered his mouth to her already swollen lips, shutting out all thoughts from her foggy brain._

_While his compelling tongue dueled with hers, his fingers slipped inside the front of her cotton shorts, inching between the lace panty and skin in a slow motion giving her an opportunity to object._

_But she didn't, much to Troy's delight. Her body responded fully, even straining to him, her leg lifting and Troy took it as consent. His knowing fingers fluidly found her soft moist flesh and began arousing her with a thrilling touch until she lost all sense of her surroundings; solely focused on Troy and his wonderful hands. _

_A strangled groan erupted from Gabriella as the friction of his fingers inside her sensitive core created a heat that came slowly, beginning in her toes, trailing up her legs, settling in her stomach until her head was thrown back and waves of pleasure overcame her senses._

_She clamped a steadying arm across his shoulders, holding him tightly against her while her body still trembled from the height he brought her. She felt his fingers gently withdraw and in the next second Troy's powerful arms had closed around her slowly shuddering frame, his chin resting atop of her head, his breathing also heavy._

_She felt his erection pressing against her. He was tense and rigid. But much to her surprise, Troy didn't do anything to ease his obvious pain. He didn't go any further than hugging her tightly as if trying to share in her fulfilled feelings. "Troy . . . let . . ."_

_He shook his head, silencing her. "It's okay, Gabi. I'll manage." He whispered tenderly. "Just—I'll go first in using the bathroom."_

_That wasn't at all what she meant or wanted. She didn't want them to stop. But Troy was being the perfect gentleman all morning and he was quite in a hurry after he went out of the bathroom, apologizing because he can't drop her off at the studio since he was running late already._

_The disappointment in her face must have been evident as she watched Troy sped off the drive that Patrick's perfectly observant eyes picked up on this and he commented offhandedly, "That boy has lapses sometimes especially when he's busy. He tends to overlook things. But don't worry, Gabriella, there's always tomorrow . . . or even tonight."_

_Of course, that simple, seemingly innocent comment had caused her to blush to a deep shade of red. But what did she expect, Patrick Reiss always has impeccable timing and he does tend to say the darnest things._

The sound of muted voices outside the office door brought Gabriella's attention back to her present surroundings, quickly fanning her face to keep the warmth from growing in her face over the memory with Troy. And it didn't take long before Marissa appeared from the door with a thin balding man, in wide rimmed spectacles that were too thick it made his eyes look beady even from a distance, following behind her.

In chic business attire that looked decidedly of designer brand, Marissa Heskin's surgically enhanced face was devoid of any expression when she entered her office and saw Gabriella sitting on one of the chairs facing her table. She walked briskly toward her high backed leather seat fitting for a president of a huge corporation and slid onto it without acknowledging her stepdaughter's presence.

She turned to the man she came in with and told him to leave them for the moment. "I will tell my secretary to call you in after I'm done here." Marissa said curtly and the frail looking man obediently left without question.

Gabriella remained in her seat, matching Marissa's blank face with one of her stoic expression. Never betraying the uneasiness she felt being in her stepmother's presence. But curiosity was eating her up from the inside.

Once the man went out and closed the door, she raised a quizzical brow at Marissa silently telling her to get on with whatever she wanted to discuss to her that required her to be physically present.

"Gabriella," Marissa began in a bland tone that bellied some sort of abhorrence to the name she had just spoken. "you're probably wondering why I asked you to come here—"

"Yes. I am." She interrupted tersely.

A glacial look crossed Marissa's features, her thin eyebrows that were arched high off her forehead it almost looked unnatural, curled into a frown evident of her displeasure at Gabriella's tone of voice. "Fine. Enough of this pleasantry."

Gabriella nearly scoffed. Pleasantry my ass! If her countenance can be called pleasant then no face is unpleasant anymore. "We were never pleasant with each other, Marissa. So I really don't see the point of bothering with it now. It's far too late and it would be bordering on hypocritical if you insist on it."

"I see that mouth of yours hasn't changed. It's still as sharp as ever. What does your husband say about that? I would hope he's keeping you in check." Marissa said with a tight smile that made her seem constipated. "I'll get to the point then."

"I would appreciate if you'd get to the point in this century. In case you forgot, I have a job. I'm not like other women who rely on their rich husband to provide for them praying they die soon so that they inherit their fortune." Gabriella retorted, the words dropping from her mouth laced with unconcealed insult and sarcasm. "And leave Troy out of this. I only lash out to people who deserve to be put in their place."

Marissa laughed at that but it sounded forced and obviously not out of humor; her green eyes shooting daggers at Gabriella's dark brown orbs. "Speaking of Troy, how is he doing?"

Gabriella held Marissa's icy glares unblinkingly. "He's fine." She replied but she sensed maliciousness in the way that her stepmother asked about Troy. "Get to the point, Marissa."

The older woman leaned back on her leather baronial chair and crossed her arms over her chest in a languid manner as though she has all the time to spare and didn't care about Gabriella's own schedule. "I heard he's been sick. I hope you took care of him like any loving wife would do."

"Yes, he was sick. He's well now. No longer in bed but at work! What the hell are you getting at?"

Another smile broke on Marissa's face. It was a smug one. She relished in Gabriella's momentary stun over that little revelation about Troy Bolton. "We'll get to that, my dear Gabriella." She said and Gabriella nearly cringed at the endearment that didn't sound like one. "First, I wanted to remind you of the terms of Antonio's will with regards to your marriage."

"Remind me?! Is this why you asked me to come here?" Gabriella scoffed in a high pitched voice gripping the armrest of the chair in annoyance. She drove all the way down here and waited for her just to hear a reminder?! "I am living the terms of that will. You arranged everything prior to my marriage. You were there when I got married." She thrust her hand forward to show off the wedding band. "This is the proof right here! Do you also need to see Troy's ring?"

"Are you really living a married life? Or is it just in paper?"

"What?!"

"The condition in the will states you be married—meaning an actual marriage not just a simple living arrangement between two people who are married."

Gabriella was sorely tempted to throw something hard and heavy at her stepmother. She couldn't understand what her issues are. Silently telling herself to keep cool, she pushed out a heavy breath and said, "Troy and I are in an actual marriage and as you are well aware we are also living together. So what in _god's_ name is your problem?!"

"Oh it's not my problem actually, Gabriella. It's yours." Marissa declared in a business like tone, sitting rigidly erect and clasping her bony hands on the glass table. "See, what you have with Troy . . . isn't what I'd call marriage _yet_ and before you start arguing with me, let me just tell you that from what I understand _and your father's lawyers agree with me on this_, for a marriage to be legally complete and fully valid it has to be consummated through _sexual intercourse . . ."_

With a shaky indrawn breath of shock, Gabriella clutched at the armrest tightly until her knuckles turned white. This cannot be happening to her. Marissa is outwitting her again! She couldn't come up with a rational thought as Marissa continued to unravel the reason for her being summoned here.

". . . I have reason to believe that this relationship you have with Troy Bolton hasn't been gratified yet. I have my sources, Gabriella and I assure you they are reliable so don't bother denying. But if you insist, we can have you examined by a doctor." Marissa kept on, well aware that she had gotten Gabriella's attention exactly how she wants it. "I am only making sure that you are living up to your end of the will. Call it—_concern for your well being._ I mean, if you do not consummate your marriage in the soonest possible time your inheritance is possibly in danger of being transferred to me."

"Wouldn't you just like that." Gabriella derided through gritted teeth, doing her best to control her growing rage directed at the witch her father married that was visibly enjoying her predicament.

"Of course. But you should be thankful I even bothered to remind you. Most stepmother's wouldn't be as considerate with _ill mannered_ stepdaughters."

Her eyes gazed menacingly at Marissa and she was slightly pleased when the older woman backed away from the desk seeing the fire in her brown orbs. Then she puckered her face and feigned an apology. "Oh I'm soooo sorry, Marissa. I didn't realize you want to be respected. You see, I was always told that respect is earned and not freely given. How foolish me!"

Marissa ignored her. "I'm giving you an ultimatum, Gabriella. Three days to consummate your marriage or you can forget about ever getting your inheritance."

"And how will you know whether it's been consummated or not?!" She said out of exasperation, having had enough of Marissa's undermining tactics. "Am I supposed to report back here once it's fulfilled? Or are you assigning someone to document the episode as it happens?"

Marissa grinned and tapped her red painted finger nails on the glass table, the sound of it adding more to Gabriella's anger. "It's all up to you. I don't care. Just as long as you prove it. And also just to let you know, I will be putting up your mother's collection of paintings that's been hanging in the family salon for auction."

She tensed at the mention of her mother . . . and the paintings. Her mother was a natural artist. She loved to paint in her spare time. And her number one fan was her father. He had her works framed and hung in their house for everyone to admire. Those paintings were not only beautiful. They were special and for Marissa to even consider selling it was like another stab to a fresh wound.

"It came with the house so legally it's mine but it's foolish of me to keep something I don't care for. Besides it doesn't go well with the new interior of the house . . . unless you want it."

"Have it delivered to my house." Gabriella told her stonily. "Are we done here?"

"For now."

Gabriella jumped up quickly from the chair, grabbed her bag and strode out of the office without so much as a parting nod to Marissa. She reached the twentieth floor's elevator right across the reception area and angrily pushed the down button, controlling her raging emotions and the tears that were forming in her eyes.

She didn't want to breakdown and cry in the premises of Marissa's office so she held it in for as long as she can. Nobody in the building will see her crying. After fifteen minutes which seemed like an eternity, she finally reached the basement parking and got inside her car. She had to get away from this place as fast as she can.

And as soon as she was out on the busy streets, the tears came flowing down like waterfalls, drenching her cheeks and ruining her light make up. She was crying so hard that her vision was getting blurry forcing her to make a stop at the nearest parking space she could find.

All the emotions she felt during her father's death, finding out about the will and her forced marriage came back to her in full force. She swore she would never be caught in Marissa's traps again but here she is . . . crying, feeling angry at herself for being too complacent and letting her guard down.

The ringing of her phone interrupted her self loathing and she almost jumped in shock at the unexpected sound. She wiped her tears and took gulps of breath before picking up the call, not bothering to see who the caller is. "Hello—"

"Gabs? Is that you?" A familiar male voice echoed through the earpiece. "You sound different."

A slow smile spread across her face when she realized who the caller was, swallowing the dryness in her throat and sniffing away the tears. "Paolo!"

"Have you been crying? What's wrong? Tell me." Concern was heard in Paolo's voice.

"It's Marissa." She said, feeling the tears fall again. Angrily, she wiped them with the back of her hand.

"Get a hold of yourself, Gabriella." Paolo advised her. A long pause followed before he encouraged softly. "Tell me why you're crying."

Leaning her forehead against the steering wheel, she tried her best to follow Paolo's suggestion. "I'm crying because Marissa got me again when I least expect it." She began in a strained voice from crying. "She's winning. She's taken everything from me and she's still not satisfied. She removed every thing in my father's house and in the offices that reminded her of my parents. It's as if they never existed. As if I never existed."

It was hard not to miss the harsh sigh Paolo breathed on the other end which was immediately followed by a colorful string of curses all directed at Marissa. Then after a moment, he seemed to have calmed down again. "I'm sorry I'm never around, Gabs. I'm sorry you had to go through all this shit with Marissa."

She spoke softly, the tears slowly subsiding. "It's okay, Paolo. I know what your work entails. I'm just glad you called me today—perfect timing. And thank you for listening."

"I should have been there to protect you, comfort you."

"Paolo don't punish yourself with guilty feelings. I understand." Gabriella shook her head and with a teary smile, she told him, "I have Troy now."

* * *

A/N: I had time to spare so I finished this. It isn't much but hey, I need this chapter to keep this going. Thanks for the reviews!


	13. Chapter 13 Analyzed

Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

_Who?_

_That's the question of the day. _

_Paolo raised the query during their lengthy conversation four hours ago. She had discussed with him every possible scenario that Marissa could have gotten the information about her marriage._

_Who gave Marissa information about her unconsummated marriage? This one still remains unanswered. But whoever that person is, she has to find out soon or her life stands in jeopardy again from Marissa's conniving mind._

"Gabs? Are you feeling okay?" Kate, her assistant, asked, concerned. She noted Gabriella's far away look as she waited for the rest of the crew to finish setting up the prop for the shoot.

Gabriella seems to be pulled back from wherever her mind was to the chaos inside the studio. She gave Kate a perfunctory glance and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes . . . yes, I am." She answered in voice that was meant to sound lively but ended up flat. "Why wouldn't I be?"

_Who knows about her marriage being such? A number of people—other than herself, of course there's Troy, Sharpay, Patrick and probably to a certain extent, Chad. _

Kate scrunched up her face a little, keenly watching Gabriella's face and especially her eyes that seem like the brown spheres were looking but not really seeing. "I dunno. Um, you seem . . . distracted. Are you sure you're okay?"

_Taking into account each individual, Gabriella immediately discounted Sharpay, to which Paolo agreed to since he also knew the blond girl very well._

_She and Sharpay weren't called best friends because the word happens to sound cool. The term best friend is something that they experienced and shared for as long as they could remember. Asking Sharpay about the status of Gabriella's marriage would have been a foolish move for her stepmother and Marissa maybe a lot of things but stupid she's definitely not. And it was also unlikely that Sharpay got tricked by Marissa into revealing such fact. Sharpay wasn't stupid either and she certainly wouldn't have wasted even a second of talking to Marissa._

She's thankful for the concern but she really doesn't want to discuss to other people what happened to her earlier. "Peachy, Kate. Just peachy or apple-y or grape-y. Hell, throw in any fruit! I'm fruit salad-y!" She piped up earning a scared little smile from her assistant. She gave her a reassuring smile then added, "I was just thinking about how we can make the next shoot we'll be doing more . . . unique."

"Oh." Kate nodded slowly but wasn't at all convinced. "Yeah. The next one with the futuristic theme."

_Like herself, Troy has first hand information. But he also knows how much she loathes Marissa. She had explained the situation with Marissa to him during one of their times spent together . . . times they weren't making out . . . and he was more than understanding and very sympathetic as well. They mutually agreed that for the sake of her inheritance and him being the person who benefited in the business sense from their marriage neither would do anything that could possibly alert Marissa of the state of their marital affair. _

_She believed him and still does but . . . Paolo didn't. And even if Gabriella vehemently argued in defense of Troy, saying that he hasn't even met her husband and therefore doesn't know him personally to be assuming things about him, Paolo was dead set on his opinion. _

"Yeah . . . that one, Kate." Gabriella responded, looking ahead at the rest of the crew setting up the lights and umbrella around the set. "That should be spankin' ...kick ass, awesome."

_It could also be Chad . . . he is Troy's best buddy after all and maybe at some point in one of their manly discussions Troy told him about their situation on the sexual department. Marissa could have gotten the piece of fact from him without Chad knowing it. But the more she considered Chad—the happy go lucky, womanizing friend with an I-don't-care attitude—the more she's convinced he's absolutely clueless of whatever is going on with her and Troy. Yet, if by chance he does know, blame should not be his alone . . . _

_Paolo withheld comment on Chad and said, "We can't know for sure. I'll call Sharpay and maybe she can find out where this guy stands." _

Kate knew it wasn't like Gabriella to just sit in one corner letting the crew take care of the props. Gabriella always dipped her hands into everything which concerns the shoot and more often than not, she makes last minute changes into the set up of the props. Not this time though, which reinforced Kate's assumption that something was indeed bothering her boss and friend. "Gabs?"

Gabriella swung her gaze at Kate. "Hmm?"

_Then, there's Patrick. The old guy knew a lot more than he should and probably because of his age, she wasn't sure if he was keeping what he knew just to himself. He was also rooting, not so subtly she must add, for her and Troy to get on with the sexual business of the marriage. He was more likely to have spilled out something to Marissa, intentional or not. But Gabriella's mind refuses to wrap itself in the thought of Patrick betraying her like that. She had asked him specifically not to tell Marissa to which he had agreed and in heart she knows that Patrick is a man of his word._

"_You are too trusting, Gabriella." Paolo said after contradicting her belief about Troy's grandfather. "Trusting to a fault."_

"I'm here . . . you know, if you need to talk or whatever." Kate clasped Gabriella's hand, her smile giving way to a troubled frown. "Your hands are shaking."

Touched by her concern, Gabriella pinned another bright smile. "It's arthritis but no need to worry I'm fine." She assured her assistant then added with an attempt at humor, "It's gonna be that time of the month soon for me, so you know _ugh_ . . . PMS."

Deciding not to pry anymore since her boss obviously doesn't want to confer about her troubles, Kate laughed. "Darn PMS! They're the worst. Always wrong timing."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Gabriella agreed, thankful that Kate didn't delve into her concerns anymore. And just in time, the crew had signaled Gabriella that everything was now set up and the models were ready. She lifted a hand to acknowledge the call and stood up from the chair to get into the set they were using.

She did her best to concentrate on the shoot and ponder on her problem later.

* * *

"Where are we exactly?" Gabriella's voice echoed uncertainly inside the room . . . well, she thinks they're in a room—a pitch black room, eerily quiet and smelling of shaved wood, fresh paint, linen and other scents that mingled in the air she couldn't put a name to.

"That's the fourth time you asked." Troy replied, clasping Gabriella's hand securely in his while he dragged her along in the darkness.

"And you're still not telling me."

"Be patient."

"Troy!" She whined. "You picked me up at the studio. Told me to wear this dress you bought then drove me all around town without telling me anything. And you expect me to be patient? I should be afraid to tell you frankly."

He stopped abruptly causing Gabriella to smack straight into his back which earned him a light jab of her elbow to his side. He settled a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her next to him. "Afraid of what?" He asked, amused.

"Now that I think about it, this is looking like a scene from a suspense thriller kind of movie where the unsuspecting girl gets lured by a hot guy somewhere remote or secluded with no other living soul around and then hot guy turns out to be a machete wielding murderer!" She related in hurried sort of voice as if matching the pacing of such a gory scene playing in her mind. "Ahhh! Poor, helpless girl . . . chopped to pieces and thrown out into the river . . . forever lost to society and all because she agreed to go on a date with mentally unstable hot guy."

"_Thank you_ for that vivid picture, Gabi. While I am flattered by your reference to my _hotness_, I don't exactly qualify as _machete wielding murderer_. I don't have split personality or schizophrenic tendencies either and I'm pretty sure I've ever held a machete in my life." He said with a chuckle his hand on her nape sliding down to the small of her back gently pushing her to face the darkness and not him. "But you are right about two things . . ."

"Which are?"

"You're unsuspecting." Troy blindly reached a hand on the wall to his left and flicked the light switch on. "And this is a date."

The dark room illuminated after a rhythm of blinking Italian FLOS lights overhead. Gabriella squinted a little from the sudden glare of lights but once adjusted, she gasped at the sight before her.

Yes, it is a room; a beautiful and classy room. The huge expanse is a plethora of plush and dense chocolate colored wool carpet dotted with several square tables covered in pure white linen and elegantly set up in front of every well cushioned dark wood chair, depending on the seating capacity, are expensive looking array of sterling flatware, wineglasses and plates. The walls are covered with designer wallpapers and luxury silver linen curtains all encased in walnut wood finishing.

"_This is a date._" She repeated in an awed tone but looking pleasantly surprised. She let her eyes travel across the room which undoubtedly looked like the dining area of a first class restaurant. Troy took in her amazed reaction and couldn't help but smile. His intention was to surprise her and just by the look of her wide eyes, gaping mouth and speechlessness, he certainly did accomplish to do just that.

But suddenly, a pressing thought seem to have presented itself in her head making her frown and prompting her to ask, "Who owns this place? We're not trespassing, are we?"

Troy laughed. He tipped his head and laughed some more, finding the play of expressions on her face utterly entertaining.

"Stop it!" She ordered, pouting at being laughed at. "I asked a perfectly valid question. And I really don't want to be thrown in jail at this time."

"Don't worry we have permission from the owners."

"Who's the owner?

With a boyish grin lifting his chiseled lips, he answered, "You're looking at one of them. This is the new restaurant of Reiss Corporation, Gabi."

Her dewy lips formed an O as understanding dawned on her. "Wow." She breathed, amazement and sincerity evident in it as she strayed her eyes again across the dining area of the upcoming restaurant. "This is very, _very_ nice, Troy."

"It's still not as finished as it should be but I wanted you to be the first to see the interior. Thank you for the compliment." He said with a slight bow of the head.

"You're welcome. You deserve it. And also thanks for letting me see this first hand."

He moved closer to circle her waist with his arm, a smiling gleam in his cobalt eyes. "Now, about our very first date, Mrs. Bolton . . ."

Her elegantly shaped brows furrowed a little but Troy didn't miss the faint smirk on her lips. "Oh—I thought showing me an empty restaurant is already _the_ _date—_but hey, if there's more on the itinerary like maybe food and some drinks, I'm obviously dressed for it!"

"Oh there's more." Troy assured her confidently. "But I have to blindfold you until we get there."

She leaned back from his hold, her face appropriately wary. "Uh-oh . . . axe murderer scene again—"

Earlier, when he picked her up at the studio, Troy knew she had been crying. And it was only because she promised she'll tell him later as to why she was upset that he didn't press further. Even if it doesn't seem forced, her sudden change from gloomy to perky bothered him somewhat but he shook his head and chuckled at her extra playfulness. "No, it's a _blind_ date." He joked and pulled out a burgundy handkerchief from his pants pocket. "Trust me?"

Gabriella studied his face for a couple of seconds before sighing in acceptance. "Okay. My life is in your hands."

"You are being overly dramatic tonight." He said, carefully turning her back to him and placing the folded cloth over her eyes, securing the ends behind her head to just the right tightness.

"I'm just nervous. I've never been on date that required me to be blindfolded."

"And there better not be another one . . . unless it's me you're dating."

Inordinately pleased by the possessiveness of his tone, Gabriella felt herself nodding. Then after hearing a murmured "Good." from him, she felt Troy's hands resting on her hips and gently he urged her to step forward.

She willingly followed his directions that she deduced led them to the opposite end of the dining area, up a number of steps, and based on the sudden coolness of the air and the soft wind blowing against her skin, onto an open space that's probably a balcony or a rooftop garden.

But when Troy untied the hanky and allowed her to see where they were, Gabriella was astounded, more than she was earlier at the dining area.

It wasn't a rooftop but a spacious balcony-like area that will be for waterfront alfresco dining. There are modern resort style outdoor lounge furniture with exquisite detailed cushions, a stage with an elevated DJ booth, a bar and strategically placed small trees that adds to the charm and fresh ambiance of the place.

Yet, what caught Gabriella's eye apart from the magnificence of the place was the table in the middle of the entire area obviously set up for a romantic dinner for two. From the corner of her eye, two men dressed as waiters came in, as if on cue, carrying a chilled wine bottle and two plates of beautifully plated food, placing them down on each side of the table before exiting quietly from whence they came.

And then before Gabriella could form a thought other than—"_Troy planned this for me?"_—several tiny lights embedded all around the balcony floor and the trees came on adding more to the romantic air.

She swung around to face Troy who was looking at her with a tender smile. She took in his appearance, dressed in a pinstriped white long sleeved shirt under a less formal dark blue jacket and pants that sit at the hips. He has never been so strikingly handsome in her eyes. "You did all this just for our date?"

"It's about time we have this date, don't you think?"

"Yes—no . . . I mean . . . shit, I don't know what I'm trying to say."

He smirked. "That night at Chad's beach house isn't what I'd call a date. And the lunches and dinners we have in the house, doesn't qualify as date either. There are too many servants shuffling around us and to add to that Grandpa is there—we both know he's always bad timing."

"This is a wonderful surprise, Troy." She earnestly said, touched that he went to such extent after being sick and amidst his busy schedule to plan this date for her. She temporarily forgot her earlier troubles. "Thank you."

Listlessly, Troy let his eyes roam over the strapless yellow and black printed dress that ended a little above her knees, affording him an enticing view of her gorgeous shoulders and her toned legs. "You can thank me with a kiss." He said voicing aloud what he had been wanting to do since he saw her dressed in the cocktail dress.

Without any objections, she closed the short distance between them gazing directly into his drowning blue pools and Troy felt her small hands slide up from his chest to twine at his nape, inexorably drawing his face down to her inviting lips.

Tenderly, she brushed her lips over his mouth and a few seconds later she boldly touched her tongue to his lips knowing he liked it that way. Then, she slid her tongue between his barely parted lips, seeking his. He went taut. Troy would have enjoyed letting her control the kissing as a show of thanks but the seductiveness of her actions gave a wave of instant lust surging through his veins and his restraint to be impassive broke.

With a groan, his arms tightened around her waist, lifting her slightly, crushing her to his hardening body. His mouth opened over hers, angling intensely back and forth. She welcomed the plunge of his tongue into her mouth, kissing him back with passion while his hands skimmed across her back and down her spine to cup her buttocks, molding her closer against his rigid legs and thighs.

Sometime later, he lifted his mouth from hers and cradled her flushed face in his hands. Desire was still palpable in his sapphire eyes as he gazed down into her russet ones. "If we have to continue with this date, we can't do very much of this . . ." He whispered heavily. He would have let her go then but she chose that moment to cast him a knowingly seductive smile that was his undoing.

He claimed her lips again, deepening the kiss, caressing her breast over the silky material of the dress until Gabriella's heart was beating in rickety lurches. Then as if realization kicked in once more, Troy fought to tear his mouth off of hers and settle on resting his jaw against her head while they tried to gain back their steady breathing.

"You're right." She said in a teasing tone. "I would really hate to miss this very first romantic date with my husband."

So the date went on. It was comfortable, fun, enjoyable and of course romantic. But Troy had a feeling the romanticism was only because it was Gabriella with her. Whether they're getting intimate or simply talking, they just seem to click.

They have been talking, teasing and flirting for two hours and still conversation flowed easily for them. They are never at a loss of topic which didn't come as a surprise to Troy anymore. Gabriella has proven to be an excellent companion; her quick wit and engaging humor added to an already alluring package that never fails to capture his attention.

She asked questions about the restaurant that still remains unnamed since the board seem to be taking forever to debate on the proposed names, about where the ideas for such a set up came from and she even admired the color contrast and lighting of the place. Troy saw the interest in her tone and she appreciated the effort that went into the construction the restaurant, pleasing him all the more.

But Troy noted it was the subject of photography that makes her perk up and become vibrant. Her cheeks grows pink, her eyes dance around and her body language gets animated at the mention of a photo shoot. And he took it all in with enjoyment.

"What?" She asked when Troy suddenly chuckled.

"I don't know if you know this or if anyone has pointed this out—but you look _turned-on_ when you're talking about cameras, photos and shoots."

She blushed but squarely held his gaze. "Only you would use that word to describe my excitement for my work!"

He picked up his glass and smirked as his lips touched the rim. "Hey, I'm just an observer here. But I'm finding it very enjoyable looking at you with a turned on face."

"Of course." She snorted with an eye roll. "My work elates me so I can't help being enlivened or turned-on looking as you call it. I'm good at what I do but my favorite subject would have to be men."

He suddenly choked on his wine, spilling some on the table cloth and his half finished molten chocolate cake. "Men?"

Without a thought, she quipped, "I'm good with men and they're easier to work on."

"Gabi, you have to clarify that for me." He put in, replacing the wineglass on the table and wiping his lips. Either he's analyzing her too much or he has a very dirty mind. "The word men in the same line as turned on is not sounding well in my ears."

She kicked him under the table, making him jump up defensively before sitting up straight. "I have a good eye with _photographing men_; the clothing, the backgrounds, the shadows that flatter the male form to bring out certain qualities like ruggedness and such. It's double the work to achieve a whole lot of other things with women subjects."

"So when you were photographing me . . . you were turned on?"

The memory of that day at the studio and what happened after came back vividly to her and Gabriella could see that was the implication of his innocent question. In answer, she asked him a question of her own. "We're you?"

"You know the answer to that."

"And . . . _now_ you should also know mine."

Troy tensed from where he sat and there was not a hint of smile on his face as his blue eyes searched hers. Is she still talking about that kiss they shared in the studio? Or did the topic just change to the issue of her readiness to have sex with him? Surely, he's not stupid to miss the double meaning in her words.

Testing his assumption, he cautiously said, "We should go . . . home."

"Yes." She whispered but Troy heard it loud and clear.

* * *

"You told me before that kissing is the quickest and simplest way to show someone you care for them." Gabriella breathed softly as Troy had her pressed up against the cold wall next to his bedroom door and began nipping her neck and shoulder.

The fire in his eyes was ablaze after they left the waterfront balcony and during the drive to the mansion that undoubtedly broke speed limit regulations. She did fear for her life when he careened into the highway to get home as quick as possible but the anticipation of what was to happen once they got to their abode overrode most of her considerations.

"Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts." He murmured against her jaw, his hands running urgently on her sides hitching the dress up to expose her thighs. "If you are, I will kiss you over and over until you believe I do care for you . . ."

"I'm not having second thoughts." She told him, holding his face steady at eye level. He saw yearning in her eyes and also a trace of nervousness.

Troy closed his eyes and leaned his forehead to hers. He tried to calm himself from the rush of desire brought on by her admission during their date. Control has never been a problem for him but right now he's acting like a sex crazed boy! He runs the risk of scaring her with his raging lust. _She's a virgin for crying out loud!_

Doing his best to keep a hold of his brain and keep it working, he suddenly remembered that she had been crying earlier and he still doesn't know what that was about. "What happened to you earlier? You said you'd tell me."

Troy felt her body tense but he kept her pressed against the wall, waiting for her to speak. After a lengthy silence, she began haltingly. "Marissa asked me to come to the office to discuss our marriage and my inheritance."

He pushed away from her and frowned. "What about it?"

In a slow but steady voice, Gabriella related what had transpired in Marissa's office. She told him every bit of ugly detail including the emotions that she felt while in Marissa's presence and after learning the purpose for the sudden summon. "That's why I've been crying before you came."

Troy stood a foot away from her with a strange look in his face. The fire that Gabriella saw not a minute ago had died down to a soft blue flame. She waited for what he will say. But it never came. Instead he closed the gap between them and his arms looped around her waist until their hips rested lightly against each other.

Then, he lowered soft, warm lips over hers to which she responded with the same gentle brush of lips. The kiss was unhurried, lazy, definitely comforting her. But when Gabriella strained her body closer into him, Troy stopped. "We shouldn't do this. Not tonight at least."

"But—"

He cut her off. His eyes were a mask of concern. "God knows I want you, Gabi. There's no question about that." He started. "But if we have to have sex, I want you willing and ready."

"I am."

"Yes, you're willing but ready? I don't think so."

"I . . . I don't get you at all, Troy."

"You're only willing because Marissa gave you a time line. I want to have sex with you, Gabi but only if you _personally_ decide that you want to and not out of an ultimatum your most hated person gave you just this morning." He explained, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I don't want you to regret having sex with me."

Gabriella saw the firm set of his jaw even as his voice was gentle and imploring. She wanted to kiss him and slap him across the face at the same time. Instead of jumping at the chance to finally bed her, he becomes all rational and concerned for her well being. He was showing that he really does care for her and she appreciates it. Yes, she does. It made her heart swell with joy. But along with it was the persistent need she had been feeling for him since four days ago and that surely had nothing to do with Marissa and the stupid ultimatum.

Explaining that to him seems a futile effort. He looked determined to stand by his logic. So Gabriella nodded. "I understand you, Troy. And you're probably right to think that, so I respect your decision." She said casually, biting her inner cheek to keep a smile from showing. "It's also best if I don't sleep in your room tonight . . . you know, I need to do some serious thinking."

He was about to object but thought better of it, stepping away from her to let her go on to the opposite side of the hallway. "Just for tonight."

"Yeah." She said, but it came out cracky from a smothered giggle so she cleared her throat and tried again, "Yeah. Well, goodnight and thanks again for a wonderful evening."

"Goodnight." He muttered.

She ambled slowly away from him. When a good distance was between them, Gabriella turned to face him still staring at her. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you by any chance have a degree in psychology?"

He looked bewildered by the question. "No . . . why?"

"Stop analyzing my thoughts." She said laughing softly.

"What happened this morning in the bathroom—had nothing to do with Marissa. I wanted that. I wanted a lot more than that actually. I don't know how to convince you and I'm finding our stand on this matter of sex suddenly bizarre since I'm the virgin here not you . . ." She relayed in a calm but smiling voice. "But if you want proof or whatever, I suggest that you talk to Sharpay . . . or better yet, try talking to Grandpa. They know how long I've wanted you."

Having said her piece, she whirled around and walked in quick strides the rest of the way to her room. She did not wait to see his reaction.

* * *

_**A/N:** Before you begin screaming bloody murder or reach into the screen to cyber strangle me for the ending, I suggest you wait until the next chapter is posted and you can reconsider your actions then. Lol. To those who are wondering who Paolo is, he's gonna be revealed in the coming chapters. Btw, the description for the restaurant is based on prive' - a singapore based restaurant at the marina bay area of the country. that place is awesome, i tell you. anyway, it goes without saying that i borrowed the concept for the resto in this fic._

_**Thanks for the amazing reviews! **_

_**sheena**-you're awesome!_


	14. Chapter 14 Closer

Chapter 14

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . . but I keep wishing._

* * *

"_Kiss me._"

It took ten minutes for Troy recollect the past four days and realize what he had been ignoring. Then another two minutes to move from his spot in the hallway and follow Gabriella into her room, throwing the door open with force that if it weren't stable enough it would have come off the hinges.

He saw her standing by the open glass doors leading out into the balcony, bare footed and staring at the faintly illuminated garden. There was a child-like quality to the way she was looking into the darkness outside with her face tipped up slightly and her shiny curls tumbling over her shoulders and back. She painted a picture of an innocent child who is waiting for a star to fall from the sky so that she can wish on it. But the innocence ended there . . . the body that supported such face is a far cry from being described as _innocent_. The silky material of the cocktail dress clung to her inviting curves so perfectly that it seemed surreal to Troy. She's like a vision that stepped out of a page of a magazine--a seductive vision that will end his torture.

She smiled when she heard his husky voice and his steps muffled by the carpet as he walked closer and closer to where she stood.

She did not turn to acknowledge him. She waited.

"Kiss me, Gabi." He whispered, now standing directly behind her but he made no move to touch her or turn her around to face him.

"Do you still think this is about my stepmother?" She said, briefly closing her eyes at the warmth that was emanating from his body to hers.

He smiled at that. What she said before leaving him in the hallway hit him like a heavy boulder falling from the sky, jumpstarting his foolish brain. She wanted him. She's ready to take that step with him. She was ready that day he came home sick. He was just too ill to notice the subtle hints she was throwing at him. _His grandfather knew! _The thought bothered him enough to want to have a one-on-one discussion with Patrick but his blood was singing in his veins right now it doesn't even matter what his grandfather knew that he doesn't. "I'm stupid."

"And dense." She quipped, nodding in agreement but remained facing the balcony.

"Terribly dense." He agreed without dispute, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. "But you know me well enough to know I will do something to correct that."

She leaned her back to him, their casted shadows on the carpeted floor from the light of her lamplight melded into one as his arms immediately went around her waist. "Yes, I do."

His lips found her ear and began gently nipping it then he pressed his mouth into the curve of her neck pushing her hair aside to kiss the nape. One hand skimmed up from her waist, over her chest and rested on her cheek to angle her face sideways for their eyes to meet. In a voice that was meant to be tempting, he said, "Kiss me, Gabi."

She didn't need to be told again. Within the circle of his arms, she turned around to face him, raised tempestuous brown eyes to him and laid her slender fingers against his cheek. Her heart was racing, and an aching need began to throb inside her. _This is it. She wants this. She cares for him. She wants him and from the burning desire in his eyes, he wants her too._

Troy's gaze had jumped from her mouth to her eyes. His heart was beating in a strong steady rhythm in anticipation of what was to come. He couldn't believe this is happening. A faint voice in his head was still telling him that this is a figment of his imagination . . . but as he stared into the depths of her eyes, he saw in them the same heady whirl of sensation he was feeling and her willingness to make this their night.

Tipping her toes up, she paused briefly to draw in some air, then touched her lips to his. Their breaths mingled as she brushed her lips over his mouth, tracing the seam of his lips the way he would often kiss her. His mouth followed her lead and opened to welcome the familiar sweetness. Then, her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting and exploring, offering what she could.

Troy eagerly took what she offered but he's a hot blooded male whose been denied sex for so long that just the thought of her initiating the first step, willing and ready to be intimate all the way, was making him go crazy. All the pent up desire, all the hunger and the rampant need he had been feeling for months took over. He responded to the tender kiss with a hard and demanding insistence that made her moan and slip her fingers through his hair, pressing herself closer to his rigid body.

Just like that, he became in control of the kiss that became ardent and intense in seconds and Gabriella, urged by nervousness, anticipation and desire, could do nothing but match it. His palms found her butt and pushed her up, expertly adjusted her height to his own while chafing her against the growing bulge inside his pants.

"I want you. I've dreamed of this so many . . ." He murmured against her parted lips.

The last word was smothered up by her mouth crashing against his.

In the next second, he made quick work of her dress, zipping it down deftly until it fell off her body in a soft swish, leaving her naked except for a flimsy black underwear and he lifted her into his arms to carry her to the bed. He sat her near the edge of the mattress but before he joined her, Troy began to shuck off his clothes.

"Can I?" Came her soft timid voice, making Troy's fingers pause at the third button of his shirt.

"Come here." He said in a low voice, smiling. She obliged, standing up from the bed. She kept her eyes locked to his as she reached to finish unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it on the floor as it fell off of his arms.

Her eyes broke contact, dropping to stare at his exposed upper body. She languidly ran her fingertips up his chest down his well muscled abs and back again, making Troy's breathing hitch in his throat. Then, with slightly shaky hands she undid his belt, followed by his pants until he was left with kicking the rest of it off and only in his black and blue boxers.

He turned her around so that her bare back pressed against his naked chest. She moaned as his warm skin touched hers, tilting her head as the tip of his tongue wet her neck and he slipped his hands over the soft swell of her chest, teasing her nipples with his thumb and fondling her breast skillfully.

"I want you . . . so much." He breathed, the tent in his boxers poking her from behind.

His lips sought to kiss her mouth and one hand slipped down her stomach where the fingers spread wide as it traveled further south, closing as his thumb hooked to the sides of her lace thong and slithered it down until it fell on its own to her feet where she stepped out of it.

Then before Gabriella could recover from the perceptible shiver that ran through her, she was spun around again, feet lifted off the carpet then her back connected with the cool, soft sheet of her bed and Troy hovered on his knees beside her hip.

She felt a moment of consciousness as his blue eyes that had darkened to the color of midnight roamed her naked form stretched out on the bed. Her cheeks flushed with trepidation and her mind chose to begin thinking of the imaginary flaws of her body. He's had better looking women, curves in all the right places, more—

_Exquisite._ That was all Troy could think of. Lying in bed in all her naked glory with her hair spread out on the pillow, she was like inviting a starving man to a banquet. And Troy was that starving man. "Gabi—you're so damn beautiful!" He murmured gruffly before moving over her to connect their lips in a wildly erotic kiss, erasing all the misplaced insecurities she had been feeling.

His restless hands skimmed down her body which was followed by his lips dropping kisses everywhere, taking time to taste every bit of exposed skin—he lapped the entire orb of her breast with his tongue until they were peaked to arousal, he buried his face in the warm hollow of her waistline, licked the skin around her navel and down to the triangle of skin above her throbbing core.

She was writhing by the time his hands found her hips, slid smoothly down the backs of her legs to the hollows behind her knees and just as Gabriella realized what he was about to do, her legs where propped up over his shoulders and his tongue found her intimately.

"Troy . . . ohh . . ." The torrent of sensations fired every nerve endings to new life, her back arched off the bed as she felt his tongue doing wonders to her most sensitive body part. She bucked and moaned but he kept on with the insistent movement of his tongue, never once stopping or lifting his head to cut short the pleasurable torture until she finally shuddered and came. "Troy!"

After he drew limp legs from his shoulders, Troy quickly flung off his boxers. Crawling over her panting form, he took her in his arms and felt her tremors slowly subsiding. He reached a hand between their bodies and slipped his fingers inside her. She was hot and wet and ready for him but he wanted to make things easy and as much as possible, less painful for her. He moved his fingers along the insides of her slippery flesh, making her quiver to the movement of his hand.

"You feel so good . . ."

Gabriella felt alive and vulnerable and prurient. She wanted to touch him too and somehow make him feel what he was making her feel right now. She opened passionate eyes at him and slowly descended a hand to his stiff erection. She felt him jerk slightly upon contact but she did not let go of him and instead continued to stroke the length of his penis with her hand and fingertip, marveled by its size and how strong it felt in her hand.

Troy snapped his eyes closed, threw his head back with a low grunt and let her wonderful fingers caress him until he thought he would explode. "Fuck. Gabi . . . stop." He rasped, grabbing her wrist while he regained his control and pinned her hand over her head. "I have to be inside you now."

She swallowed the dryness in her throat and whispered, "Yes . . . please Troy." She sounded desperate, she knew. She heard herself but she didn't care. She wanted him, his body, to fill the void that she had been missing her whole life. That deep sensual craving of fulfillment that he had awakened that moment they kissed on the night of their wedding.

At last he positioned himself between her parted legs, braced both his arms just above her shoulders and with aching gentleness he slid into her, inch by slow inch, carefully watching her face for any signs of discomfort.

A moment later, she gasped and froze. She went still and so did he.

She was warm and tight, so very, very tight. His heart was thudding loudly in his chest and his breathing was harsh. Straining to hold back while he gave her time to accustom her body to the fullness of having him inside her, his every muscle was tense, desperate.

"Alright?" He asked worriedly, seeing the uneasiness in her eyes.

She nodded and as if to assure him, she drew his face down for an openmouthed kiss. He couldn't take it any longer. Out of need, he plunged in the rest of him. But instantly regretted it when she tightly clutched on his shoulders and cried out in pain.

He withdrew partially but her urgent voice stopped him. "Don't!" The pain was short lived it would seem. And he felt her knees lift up before one leg wrapped around him.

That was all the urging Troy needed. He moved his length back in, rocking her, easing himself in and out of her in a slow and steady rhythm that was so unlike what he was used to doing while his lips continued to kiss her in the same languid pace as their lower bodies.

Gabriella could no longer think. She could only feel—feel his rigid shaft sleekly moving within her, unfolding a mellow glow in the pit of her stomach. As she began to move in tune with him, her body was overwhelmed with an awareness she had not experienced before and she was almost certain, even if it turned out this isn't her first time, still nothing would ever compare to it.

For Troy, gone were the hazy memories of having sex with her. Just the sight of her gorgeous face, inches from his and glowing with ardor, the increasing cries of pleasure, and the feel of her tight muscles stroking his erection—this is no dream. His dreams doesn't even come close to this wonderful reality.

He fought against his control to keep with the slow pace of his thrust. He wanted to prolong their intimacy, relish every sensation floating between them. He wanted this, as her first time, to be special and memorable for her. But his body refused to listen. It refuses to be denied any longer of reaching that satisfaction it so desperately wanted since the night of their wedding.

Yet, he still resisted, moving steadily in her, but the arousing shift of Gabriella's body that plunged him deeper inside her and her husky voice calling out his name snapped the fragile thread of control he held. With a loud groan, he tore his mouth away from hers and drove into her full force, thrusting again and again until they became wild with wanting . . .until she was twisting her head in the pillows, her nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders, both her legs now wrapped tight around his waist and she was arching her body to meet his forceful thrusts.

Soon enough the small friction that started in her belly began building and growing and gathering momentum until it spread like wildfire along every inch of her, soliciting a scream from Gabriella when it shattered beyond her control. "Oh god I'm . . . Trooy!"

Her back fell down on the cushions, her heart thundering and her breathing was labored but Troy wrapped his arms around her, lifting her hips and continued thrusting, wanting to make up for months wasted, months of yearning and come to terms with a startling realization that his feelings for her no longer revolves around friendliness but on something more . . . risky.

Gabriella held him, welcomed his renewed thrusts even as she has yet to recover from her staggering orgasm. Before she knew it, Troy was driving into an unrelenting pace causing her body to convulse again. Her inner muscles clamped around him once more and shortly after they exploded together to new heights, trembling . . . gasping each others name.

He collapsed against her, and with what little strength left, he rolled onto his back to keep his weight from crushing her, taking her with him. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room for long, long minutes. Neither was able to speak. With their lower bodies still intimately joined, Troy let his hand trace the contours of her back, hip and the curve of her butt, basking in the afterglow . . . reveling in the best sex he has ever had.

An eternity later, when rationality came back to Gabriella, she realized that not only was the marriage consummated but she in the space of a few hours she had truly become Troy's wife. And it occurred to her that her relationship with him, uncertain as it is, just went on to a whole different level involving not just her body but her heart as well.

And frankly, she is a little bit scared.

* * *

_"Fuck! I can't believe I'm agreeing to this shitty idea." Sharpay groaned, annoyed with herself for having a soft heart for Paolo._

_"Come on, Pay." Paolo said in an almost caressing voice. "Do it for Ella. Do it for me."_

_"Count it as a blessing that I am even in your lives." She retorted but there isn't much anger in her tone anymore. Paolo could still easily make her change her mind just like before. "And I want you to understand that I don't like this errand you're sending me to. Danforth is sooo . . . ugh! Gabriella should be the one confronting him, Paolo!"_

_"Pay, you are a wonderful, sparkly blessing to us." He declared. "Ella will go soft on this Chad guy. I'm sure of it. She'll believe whatever he tells him. You're it, Pay. He won't be able to sway your head to his liking."_

_"You and your crazy ideas. It's Danforth, Paolo! He has this atrocious head of hair--"_

_"Pay . . . if I'm there you know I'll do it myself but--"_

_"Yeah, yeah. You're somewhere outside civilization. I keep telling you to visit us here."_

_"I will soon. Just please do this for me and I promise when I get there I will make it up to you and Ella."_

_"Fine! This ass-faced Marissa is driving all of us nuts. Gabs has been beating herself up over this shit." She said. She had been shocked as well when Gabriella called, wanting nothing more than to murder Marissa for her evil schemes. The woman is a greedy bitch. Smart and cunning, but a bitch most of all. "I still don't get why Uncle married her."_

_A short pause ensued from Paolo's end of the line then he sighed heavily. "Coz' he wanted to forget the pain."_

_"Well, it was a bad decision . . . and an even worse choice he made with Heskin."_

After receiving the call from Paolo and arguing further that she will not go trotting around the streets to find Chad Danforth to ask him whether or not he's had _talks_ with Marissa, Sharpay finds herself in the VIP booth of a nightclub sitting across Bolton's bushy haired best friend and sipping her second glass of blue colored drink while waiting for Chad to _bestow_ her his attention.

She grimaced disgustedly at the bimbo attached to Chad's arm who was currently engaged in a liplock with him. "Danforth!" She called over the blare of the music. When that didn't work, she kicked him under the table and banged the surface with the palm of her hand.

"What the fuck is your deal, Evans?!" Chad snapped, pulling the redhead bimbo from his lap to rub his lower leg.

"I think she wants to join us, Chad. She does look a little left out over there." The girl declared in a grating voice that offended Sharpay's ears badly. "I don't mind honey. Threesome is always thrilling for me."

Ignoring the other woman, she threw a death glare at Chad and demanded, "Get rid of her."

"Hey, I was here first!"

"And I don't care."

"What's your problem?!"

Chad restrained the fired up redhead who jumped out of the seat with her claws stretched out ready to pounce on Sharpay who sat indifferently eyeing the angry woman. "Don't make a scene!" He ordered then ground out in annoyance. "Evans has a pole stuck up her ass. That's her problem."

The girl dissolved in giggles just as irksome as her speaking voice. "What?" She asked seeing Sharpay's blank face. "It's funny!"

"I'm laughing on the inside."

"You can do that?"

Sharpay nearly laughed at the seriously curious but dumb question. "Can't you? It's a talent I developed over the years. You should practice. It's proven to be a helpful tool when talking to people who use less than half their brain to think."

"Pamela, could you just give us a minute." Chad cut in, exasperated with Sharpay and also curious why the blond who wanted nothing to do with him the last time they saw each other had gone out on a limb to meet him in the club.

Redhead Pamela frowned at Chad and without warning slapped him across the face with enough force to rearrange his bouncy hair. "It's Sasha, you idiot!" She huffed and immediately left the booth, skimpy clothes and all.

"Now _that_—is hilarious!" Sharpay laughed at Chad's shocked expression, his hand pressed up against the damaged cheek.

He threw her an irate glance. "I'm glad I can amuse you, Evans."

"Me too!"

"I'm sure. But you should be playing nice to me."

She raised a perfectly shaped brow and rolled her eys at him. "That'd be the day."

"You need something from me or else you wouldn't be _hanging _here." Chad deduced then worked his jaw to ease the sting from the slap.

"You're right. I need to know something from you." She admitted, eyes narrowing at the impish smile directed at her. "I want to know—"

"You'll know nothing until you make it up to me."

"Make up for what?!"

"For starters—ruining my date."

"You can find your bimbo after you tell me—"

"No. You will fill in for her."

"I'm pretty sure I don't give off that _I'm-a-dumb-slut-and-proud-of-it_ vibe you seem to like so much, Danforth. Not even in my sleep!"

He quickly grabbed her wrist as she slid from the booth. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Outta here! Fucking waste of time. Hands off!"

"Oh no, no . . . my date just ditched me because of you. Come on, we're dancing."

"Hell no. Shit Danforth! Stop pulling my arm!"

* * *

Morning came early for them both, sleeping only a few hours after their intense activity.The blanket was drawn up over them to keep the chill of dawn from their naked bodies. Gabriella stole a glance at Troy from the position of her head tucked at the crook of his neck then quickly buried her head back when she saw him wide awake and looking at her.

Tilting her chin up, he forced her to look at him and brushed a wayward curl off her cheek. He noted her luminescent eyes. "There's something on your mind." He stated softly. One thing he didn't want was awkwardness to settle between them after the first time they had sex together.

She showed him a sated smile and in a voice that dropped down to a whisper as if she was confiding an important secret, she said, "I'm yours now."

"Finally!" Troy retorted with a roguish grin, moving their bodies so that she was fully atop him.

The unexpected sound of Gabriella's phone on the bedside table disturbed the onset of cuddling and they both groaned in annoyance. She reached out to answer the call but Troy grabbed it before she can, looking at the screen to see Sharpay's face blinking in time with the ringtone.

"It's fucking five in the morning." Troy grumbled irritably before he pressed to answer then heard Sharpay's high pitched voice say, "Gabs! That idiot—"

"Sharpay!" Troy interrupted loudly before the blond girl could start to lengthen the conversation she thought she was having with Gabriella.

"What the—who the—"

"Sharpay, we're busy. Gabi will call you back when we're no longer busy." He put in briskly, promptly ended the call and pressed the off button.

"She is going to kill you when she lays her eyes on you." Gabriella said in between giggles, clutching the sheets up her exposed breasts.

Troy yanked the sheet from her and rolled his body over hers in place of it, capturing her smiling lips in a quick kiss. "If she's smart like I think she is, she'll get what I mean by _busy._"

"Oh, she will. But she'll go on an extensive tirade on how you treated her rudely until your ears bleed and beg her for forgiveness."

"I'll take that risk." He smirked, bending his head again to kiss her.

She pressed a hand against his chest to halt his obvious actions. His eyes were beginning to darken and she could feel his penis stirring to life anew. "Uh, Troy . . . again?"

"Again."

She bit her lip and hesitantly said, "Um, I can't . . . I want to, Troy . . . but I'm sore and my thighs are still burning."

Troy stilled and silently cursed himself. Damn! He forgot yet again that this is her first time and he had been undeniably rough on her hours earlier. He was out of control! "I'm sorry, Gabi." He amended sincerely, resting his forehead against hers. "It's just—you're so gorgeous and sexy and we had the most amazing sex—and I'm a bastard."

"Nah." She contradicted with a smile. "You're just being your usual horny self."

"Babe, I get horny every time I think of you and that's no joke." He whispered, his lips kissing her temple.

"Only when you think of me?"

His forehead creased at the doubt in her tone but he shook the thought and regarded it as another one of her teasing remarks. "Just you."

She seemed pleased to hear his assurance, remaining quiet in his arms for a few minutes before she said, "I can't believe we did it in my room and not yours."

Troy's lips twitched with laughter at her wide eyed stare. "Its better here and Grandpa won't disturb us like he does when we're in my room. He thinks that's an extension of the guest room."

"That's true." She agreed.

"Which reminds me . . . we will have to remedy this two bedroom thing we have right now."

"We do?"

Bracing his arms on the mattress, Troy gave her an assessing look then after a minute a smirk showed on his lips. Suddenly, he rolled his body so that he was now pinning her with his weight. "Yes, we do." He said then swiftly his lips and tongue swooped down on hers, engaging her mouth in an outright intense kiss as his hips undulated suggestively against her lower body.

Faintly grasping that he was kissing her senseless to convince her of his idea, Gabriella moaned low in her throat. "Mmm-hmm, Troy . . . how?"

He stopped, smiled handsomely and averred. "One ridiculously spacious married couple bedroom."

"I have no say in this matter, huh?"

He winked. "The plans are already in my desk."

She couldn't help but giggle at his incorrigible nature but just as she was about to retort a flippant remark, she suddenly yawned. "God, I'm so tired."

That made Troy smile. "Poor baby." He ribbed, shifting their bodies so that her head lay on his arm and one leg draped over his thigh. "We'll have to remedy that too."

"Yeah, sleep is good."

"Not what I have in mind but for now it'll do."

She lifted her head up. "What?"

"Stamina takes practice, babe." He said in a mock serious tone then his lips spread wide in a mischievous grin. "Lots and lots and lots of it."

* * *

_**A/N:** Whew! That took forever to write. So there, they FINALLY did the deed. Need I say more? Lol! The next update might take some time...lots to do so little time. _

_**I love all the reviews guys. I have fun reading it. Thank you!** _

_**emmalouise**, did you have your popcorn ready for this one? lol, you cracked me up girl, i swear! **irene**, it's so sweet of you to take the time to review. and don't worry about the english. it's cool with me. :D **sheena**, thank you. really, really thank you! i always love reading your reviews, you know that. you're the best! srsly. ;)_


	15. Chapter 15 Interlude

Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything._

* * *

It was twelve in the afternoon, exactly seven hours after Sharpay's early morning call.

"Are you sure you heard her right?" Troy asked skeptically as he and Gabriella stepped inside the apartment building where Sharpay lives.

Troy's original plan before he dozed off with Gabriella that morning was to spend the day in the house, in her room, in bed and doing what married couples do.

After an amazing night with Gabriella which meant an important change in their current relationship, he felt it necessary to be with her and enjoy the new level of their bond. Plus, he really didn't feel like leaving her just yet. How could he? She was naked gorgeousness sprawled out on the bed next to him and he's a man who just had sex with her, felt how incredible they were together and naturally he wants a repeat of that.

To add to that, he really does care for her more than what he's willing to admit.

But Sharpay just had to ruin the day by calling on the house phone at around ten o'clock, thirty minutes after him and Gabriella woke up and was having an intense make out session that would have surely lead to sex had it not been for Sharpay screaming her head off at Norris, the butler who answered her call, and demanding that the phone be delivered at once to Gabriella because her troubles qualify as a life and death situation.

So the butler just about ran all the way up the grand staircase like fire was burning his tail, phone in hand and a harassed expression on his face, as he went from room to room after finding his bedroom empty.

He created such a ruckus that his grandfather, naturally nosy that he is, involved himself in the matter along with three other house staff and actually helped to find them. And they did . . . they found them while engaged in a wild liplock and just a few seconds short of consummating the marriage again.

He nearly had a heart attack when the door banged open and five heads, crammed between the door frame, poked inside; four gasped loud enough to be heard through the entire floor and their faces showed varying degrees of shock and delight while Patrick's face gradually went from frowning to a full on smirk nodding his head approvingly at the naked pair on the bed.

Gabriella automatically grabbed the sheets clumped beside her hip that had slipped down their bodies during the supposed foreplay and quickly flung it over them to cover their nakedness. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and made a sniveling sound of embarrassment.

"_Get out!" He had shouted angrily, wrapping his arms around Gabriella in a protective manner making sure she was fully covered. "Get the fuck out!"_

_The fury in Troy's voice wasn't mistaken for anything else by the servants. They immediately straightened and scurried away from the open doorway, holding their breaths in check lest their master threatens to fire them. But Patrick remained where he was completely unaffected by the anger in Troy's tone and the murderous look directed at him._

"_Don't give me that look Troy Bolton." Patrick admonished, sounding appropriately serious but the smile on his face never waned one bit. "I owned that look when I was your age."_

"_Go away!" Troy yelled again rolling his body along with Gabriella so that the blanket wrapped around them securely and he shielded her from the open door where Patrick was. "Do I have to explain what the hell we're doing here for you to get that we need privacy?!"_

_Patrick sniggered suddenly and in a low voice said something that Troy swore sounded like 'Coitus interruptus' before he stated aloud, "Oh I know what you're doing. No need to elaborate I can see it clearly from here."_

"_Isn't this what you've been rooting for since you came here?! But here you are disturbing us again! God, Grandpa!"_

"_And how many times do I have to tell you to lock your door? Clearly, you never listen."_

"_Grandpa," Gabriella timidly voiced out from behind Troy before he could retort back to Patrick. She seemed calmer than he was but her face was still flushed. "Why were you looking for us?"_

"_You have a phone call actually from a certain—" He tried to recall but couldn't so he spoke on the phone instead to ask, "What's your name again?—Sharpay?—You sure? Really? First time I've heard such name. Me? I'm Troy's grandfather. Call me Patrick. Yes, they're here. They've been busy that's why . . . yes, that kind of busy. Now, now, no need to scream. Eardrums get sensitive with age—okay I'm giving the phone to them now." Patrick tossed the phone over in the direction of the bed and Troy easily caught it. "She's demanding to talk to you." He addressed Gabriella. "That friend of yours has a way with words. Norris was verbally attacked when he told her you were still asleep. It seems like an emergency."_

_Handing the phone to a mortified Gabriella, Troy cursed inwardly at the never ending interruptions that come their way. He should have known the blond best friend would not take it well being hung up on earlier when she called. And he certainly didn't think that four servants and his grandfather would enter the room, without so much as a warning then, accidentally witness part of their sexual activities. _

_When he looked up and saw Patrick still hovering by the door, he shot him a look that clearly said he should leave but the old man was either oblivious to it or he simply doesn't care. Instead he continued smiling at Troy while playing with the handle of his cane then relayed, "I'm glad you finally saw the light."_

"_Please get out now, Grandpa." He sat up and braced his elbows on his bent knees as the palm of his hands pressed against his temples. He wasn't seeing the humor in their situation right now. He looked exasperated. "You standing there while we're here naked is starting to get a tad creepy." _

_Patrick's shoulder's shook with mirth but he did make the move to leave. "Belated happy honeymoon." He said as a parting word, closing the door as he went._

"Yes, I'm sure." Gabriella replied as the elevator doors closed and started moving up to the penthouse floor. "Sharpay said a lot of things but I kinda went into shock after she said Chad is with her that I barely recall the rest of her rants."

Troy casually draped his arm over her shoulders. "This is odd. How did Chad end up in her place? Last time I checked, she hates him."

"Do you think they hooked up like . . . we did last night?" She sounded quite appalled by the thought and it showed on her face, gazing up at Troy wide eyed and lips curled unevenly.

"That's a damn bizarre coincidence, don't you think?" He echoed shooting her a weirded out glance. "I know they're our best friends but do we all have to do the same thing at the same time? I mean, come on!"

"I know, Troy, but Chad is with her!"

"I know. But please don't compare what we did to whatever they were doing."

"I'm not—it's just a thought and it's possible!"

He shook his head adamantly, drawing her against his chest. "Last night was incredible, Gabi." He whispered to her ear. "If it weren't for this damn disruption we'd be having a continuation of it."

She giggled, looping her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose to his. "Troy, you've been telling me that since we left the house."

"Don't you want a replay?" His brows rose and fell as if daring her to deny that she wasn't hoping for the same.

She watched his face slowly closing the gap to hers knowing that a kiss would soon follow their little flirting. "You know I do." She admitted softly.

"Good answer." He murmured before his lips crashed down on hers in a thorough kiss that sent her senses reeling crazily, forgetting that they are in an express elevator that will open at Sharpay's penthouse.

The soft ding to signal the elevator doors opening was not heard by the couple as they seem to be lost in the kiss. Neither did they see Sharpay already standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and a pinched expression to her face. "Haven't you had enough sucking last night?!" She clamored in a disbelieving tone instantly alerting the pair of her presence and making them pull apart with a bit of disconcertion. "Took you long enough to get here even after I said to hurry! I know I was perfectly clear about you two leaving testosterone and hormone in your house before coming here!"

"Sharpay—" Troy was the first to speak as they walked out of the elevator and into the penthouse looking around the spacious and well designed floor to see any sign of Chad but the blond girl wasn't planning on letting him speak.

She raised an impatient hand at Troy halting whatever he intended to say and began pacing back and forth in front of the pair who followed her movements with their eyes.

She suddenly halted directly at Troy and narrowed her eyes at him. The closeness of her face unsettled him a bit that he instinctively took a step back to put some space between them and he threw Gabriella a harried glance.

"Shar, no need to be violent. We're here now." Gabriella piped in hoping to get her friend to calm down and tell them what she had been raving mad about since this morning that concerned Chad.

Sharpay whipped her head abruptly at Gabriella that sent her hair swinging over her face. "You'll have your turn later." She forewarned then swung back at Troy. "Bolton, don't you ever, ever—I mean, ever—"

"Ever." Troy quipped, grinning. "Got it."

"Oh you think this is funny, don't you . . . man-who-finally-got-laid? She finally allows you to dock in her port and you go smart ass on me?"

Troy raised both arms in surrender, keeping his mouth shut to let the agitated blond have her moment of fury and hopefully get to the part where she actually tells them what her problem really is. "Don't think so." Sharpay retorted. "If you ever so much as think about hanging up on me again—"

"I won't do it again, Sharpay. I swear." He cheekily promised, unable to resist cutting off her speech to speed things up a bit. Gabriella tugged at his hand, imperceptibly telling him to stop annoying her friend more.

Sharpay straightened, crossed her arms again and eyed Troy for a couple of seconds then in a surprisingly less high pitched voice, she said, "Alright, Bolton. Since you seem to be having a blast disrupting my sentences let me ask you this—before last night, did you tell your thick haired friend about your non existent sex life with Gabriella?"

"What?!" Troy and Gabriella exclaimed in unison, a play of disbelief and shock crossing their faces at the completely off topic question.

"Sharpay!" Gabriella scolded as soon as she recovered from what came out of her friend's mouth. "What drugs are you on?!"

"Where the hell is Chad?" Troy demanded, directing a menacing glare at Sharpay who glared back icily.

"Your friend is an idiot."

"Yet he's here in your place. You must like idiots."

"Hardly. My conscience won over dislike."

Gabriella butted in. "Stop it! This is pointless."

"I need an answer, Bolton. Did you or did you not?"

Troy gritted his teeth to keep his temper in check and replied bitingly, "I don't get the relevance of the question, Evans, but believe it or not, I don't discuss my sex life to Chad or to the next available ear who suddenly wants to hear a good bedtime story."

Contrary to what Troy was expecting Sharpay to do, the blond girl cocked her head to one side as if weighing whether or not his claims have truth to it. Then, she poised herself up again and the hostility on her face vanished. "Okay, that's all I need to know."

"That's all?" Troy repeated, dumbfounded by the abrupt change in Sharpay's demeanor.

She nodded. "Yeah." Then whirled away from him, striding towards the living room.

"I'm confused." Gabriella interjected following in her friend's wake and dragging Troy along. "I thought you said Chad is here and you want Troy to get him out because he's physically unable to move."

She stopped next to a pink frilly couch and sat herself on it. "Danforth is in the guest room." Sharpay replied with visible exasperation pointing to the direction of the room. "He's passed out."

"Passed out? How is he passed out?" Troy asked. "Chad can hold his head even when disgustingly drunk. Why were you with him? And you had to bring him here?"

Sharpay rolled her eyes in edginess. "We met up at the club. He forced me to dance with him coz' allegedly I'm responsible for him being dateless. So, we ended up dancing. After that, I was getting nowhere with him and the place was packed, we got separated and next I find him totally drunk, falling off the bar stool and in danger of getting trampled by a crowd with very deadly stilettos." She explained without pausing for air, oblivious to the fact that Troy was having a hard time following her rapid fire sentences.

Troy shook his head to clear it. "What? Why did you two have to meet?"

"Bolton, keep up with the pace will you? I wanted to ask him if he had talked to Heskin about you and Gabs' sex life. Oh don't you dare glower at me! It's possible that Heskin got the info from him. I'm being a concerned friend here." Sharpay retorted, defensively indignant, then after dispelling a heavy breath continued on like she was never annoyed. "I would have left him there but apparently I still have an angel on my shoulder that told me to help your poor friend out. So I did. Only when I was trying to knock some sense into him, I realized he wasn't just drunk to the point of being wasted. He couldn't open his eyes, didn't have the strength to pick himself up and he couldn't even talk. He looked like a man who got a heaping doze of GHB and Rohypnol."

"Are you saying he was drugged?" Gabriella asked since Troy was still at a point of processing Sharpay's story.

"Yes that's what I'm saying! Geez, Gabriella, did you leave your intelligence in bed?"

"GHB and Rohypnol are date rape drugs." Troy expressed finally catching up and fleetingly forgetting his irritation directed at the blond. "Date rape drug on Chad? That just doesn't connect."

"Well done, Bolton!" Sharpay rejoined with sarcasm, giving him three hand claps. "I'm only assuming it's that drug but whatever it is, I don't care if it connects or not. When I found him he was like a dead person—_only breathing_! Someone is either playing a terrible prank on him or this person means business. He's in a much better state now but he's still pretty much a wreck." She waved an arm toward the door of the room Chad was in. "See for yourself."

"This is unbelievable." Gabriella murmured, running a hand through her hair. She glanced at Troy and saw the same reaction from him.

"Yeah, I can't believe I became savior then nanny in one night and to Danforth no less while you two were getting hot and heavy and totally ignored my call."

"Do you have to keep bringing that up?"

"Apparently not . . . you two look sexed up enough as it is." Sharpay drolly said then she turned to Troy. "Will you go and get your friend already? I'm done being his nanny."

Troy could not decide if he should be infuriated or thankful to Sharpay. Her purpose for meeting with Chad got on his nerves. He didn't like the fact that she took matters into her own hands without even telling him or Gabriella of her plans. But conversely, he realized, Sharpay acted out of loyalty and friendship. He couldn't blame her for that and she did save Chad from injuring himself in the drugged state he was in.

"Thanks for, uhh—the angel on your shoulder." Troy said uneasily. The annoyance was overshadowed by gratefulness.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll send the message."

When Troy disappeared inside the guest room, Sharpay jumped up from the couch and pulled Gabriella none too gently towards her own room. Once inside, she closed the door shut and stood against it. She gave Gabriella a once over from the top of her head to the tips of her dark polished toes peeking out of a pair of strappy sandals.

"Did Paolo tell you to meet up with Chad?" Gabriella asked when Sharpay gave no inclination to speak and simply contend herself with assessing her look. "I told him to drop the idea."

"Yeah."

She raised a meaningful brow. "And how did that go? Thrilling enough?"

"I'm lacking in sleep just like you but not for the same reason obviously."

Gabriella groaned stomping over to Sharpay's bed and sitting on the pink mattress. "I had sex last night alright! I know it. You know it and the entire staff in the mansion probably knows it by now. I'm sorry you had to go through all that trouble to get information from Chad for nothing. I'm sorry Troy hung up on you when you called. I'm sorry—"

"The sex—your _first time_—how was it?"

For a second, having been interrupted with her apology, Gabriella was confused by the sudden question. "You're seriously asking me that?"

"Not serious enough to require an ambulance but yes, I'm serious."

Gabriella saw Sharpay's lips twitching into a smile that was nowhere near annoyed or possibly blaming Gabriella for the crappy night she had with Chad. "You're crazy."

"No, just curious. How was it?"

She laughed softly as Sharpay pushed away from the door to sit next to her on the bed. "It was . . ." She began, blushing as the memories of last night came flooding in—the passionate kisses, wonderful hands, the gentleness and the intensity of their joining—"Amazing."

"Troy Bolton does live up to his reputation after all. You look like you're about to cum."

"You spend a few hours dancing with Chad and suddenly your mouth is so vulgar!"

"You're no longer a resident of virgin land, Gabriella. Quit being coy." Sharpay reminded, crossing her legs. "You wanted what happened, right?

"I wasn't forced into it, if that's what you mean. You know I wanted it."

"Sex just complicated your already complicated relationship with him. You crossed the _line_ and there's no going back. This is a big step for you, Gabs. I know you did not just decide this out of uncontrolled desire—you feel something for him, don't you?"

Gabriella sighed and slumped back on the bed. She closed her eyes and began considering the question. She cares for Troy that's for sure. But her decision to have sex with him isn't only because she cares. It wasn't just out of lust either. It's something more complex than that.

"Is it love?"

She opened her eyes and shifted her body sideways to better see Sharpay's face. "If you mean love as in like the one you feel for Paolo, then no." She answered, biting back a smile at the sudden flush in Sharpay's face when she mentioned Paolo. "What comes after caring but right before love?"

"Passion."

"Well, yeah . . . I guess that's what I feel."

"Question is, will it stay as passion or become more than passion? Coz' right now you're doing the opposite of what you swore you won't do with Bolton but your marriage is still under the terms of the will."

"I—" For lack of anything to say and accepting that every thing Sharpay pointed out regarding her relationship with Troy has truth in it, Gabriella shrugged. She knows Troy cares for her but that's all. He's been extra attentive, thoughtful, affectionate to a certain extent and she could go on and on but she's unsure if anything will change because of last night.

The blond seem to understand her best friend's lack of response. She did not pursue the subject any further but asked instead, "Am I really that obvious with Paolo?"

Gabriella chuckled, reaching for Sharpay's hand that rested idly on the mattress and gently squeezed it. "No, Shar. You're never obvious unless you do it on purpose. I'm your best friend. Best friends know things like this. They see what others don't. Besides you did confide to me freshman year that you love him. You hated every girl he dated and you cried the most when he went away for college."

"After all these years, he still thinks of me as a sister. He's completely clueless."

"But you love him anyway. Instead of being sisterly you should be obvious with him and _maybe_ he'll come around. He's still single and you're single."

"Sure he will—when he's not saving the world from poverty, malnutrition, aids or whatever." Sharpay exhaled noisily then as if she's had enough dwelling on emotions she changed the subject back to Gabriella. "So how are you gonna prove to Heskin that you and Bolton finally got your groove on? That woman is fucking insane! She wants proof—eww!"

"She's messed up." Gabriella reinforced, knowing that Sharpay isn't always comfortable talking about her unreciprocated feelings for Paolo. "I have no idea how I'm going to prove I had sex with Troy. I should be thinking of a way but I can't seem to get myself to think about that right now."

Sharpay cracked up in sudden merriment. "Normally you'd be all worked up on this problem with Marissa." She paused to let the laughter pan out. "Yesterday you were crying your eyes out and choking on your tears but here you are now looking almost unconcerned. I'm gonna make a wild guess and say you're thinking of . . . _tonight, Troy Bolton and sex_!"

"I'm that obvious?" Gabriella asked looking a bit stunned that Sharpay got everything right on the dot.

"It doesn't take a genius to see what's written all over your smiling face, Gabs. But don't worry, Bolton is in the same boat as you." Sharpay assured patting Gabriella's knee to placate her alarm. "But before your thoughts jump from sex to having babies with Bolton, worry about Marissa first coz you know your inheritance is at stake."

Gabriella suddenly bolted upright from the bed. She grasped Sharpay's upper arms and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Her jaw hung low and her eyes grew into big round saucers, filled with panic.

"What?! You're scaring me." Sharpay said, confused. "Speak up!"

"We didn't use protection last night." Gabriella whispered on a strangled breath.

"So? He's your hus—oh—oh! Uh-oh babies. Not good. I mean, babies are good but right now, in your case, it's bad! Sex is complicated but babies are double the complication."

"I know!" Releasing her grip on Sharpay, she scrambled up from the bed and began pacing, silently berating herself for being so horny to the point of negligence. "I need to see a doctor right _now._"

"Want me to come?"

"Yes!"

By the time they came out of Sharpay's room, Troy was also coming out of the guest room supporting a weary looking Chad to walk. He looked up, adjusting Chad's arm over his shoulder and pulled him to stand straight. Chad is definitely heavy. He had to give props to the slim blond for the means she used to haul Chad out of the club to her place.

"Please tell me you had help bringing him here last night. He's like a dead weight." Troy complained cinching his arm around Chad's waist since he was slipping again. Chad gave a low groan of protest.

"Duh. I'm not exactly keen on breaking a nail or some other important body part." She replied bluntly.

Troy shook his head and turned his attention to Gabriella who had come up to Chad's other side and was helping bear the weight to get them moving towards the elevator where Sharpay waited, not shy about showing her impatience.

"I'll come back for you here after I get this one settled." He told Gabriella.

"No!" She quipped, her tone hiking up a few notches. It made Troy frown and notice the distracted look on her face but she shot him a bright smile and repeated in a calmer voice, "No, Troy. It's alright. I have some paperwork to finish in the studio and I have to get my car there. Sharpay will give me a ride. I'll just see you at home, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded, still in doubt but he didn't argue.

"Relax, Bolton. A few hours won't kill you. You've got all night and _the rest of the five years_ with her to be merry in bed or wherever." Sharpay glibly interjected which earned her a death glare from Gabriella.

A few warning bells sounded inside Troy's head when the time frame of their marriage was mentioned but he was in no mood to engage in another debate with Sharpay while Chad was weighing him down. "Are you always this _eloquent_ with words?"

"Where am I?" Chad suddenly spoke. His words slurred. His eyes half open.

Sharpay answered him. "You're on Mars with two horny aliens holding you up."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! _

_ sheena-belated happy birthday!_


	16. Chapter 16 Resolved

Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

Troy stared at his wife from across the kitchen entryway as she engaged in conversation with Mrs. Lewis and his grandfather. He had been standing there for a good eight minutes just looking at Gabriella seated on the granite counter top next to the refrigerator. She wore an oversized asymmetrical fuchsia cotton shirt that bared one deliciously tan shoulder, paired over a short denim skirt with jagged edging. Her hands were planted firmly on the counter top on either side of her hips, her shapely legs were crossed by the ankle and she was unconsciously swinging them while she listened intently to whatever the cook was saying.

The past few hours after they parted ways in Sharpay's apartment building felt like it's been stretched into days. He was practically praying to the god of time—well, he had hoped there is one because he's never been one to pray or believe in divine intervention—to speed up the seconds so that he can leave Chad without feeling like a good for nothing best friend and rush home to Gabriella to enjoy their newfound intimacy with hopefully no more interference.

But as it turned out, the god of time—if there is one—does not listen to non-believers such as himself when they suddenly resort to prayers to make things go their way. Chad was nowhere near getting better even after he got him settled in his own apartment. In fact, he became worse. Chad threw up just as he was about to leave which he instantly took as a bad sign health-wise and out of worry, he was left with no other option but to bring him to a doctor.

So he drove Chad to the local hospital where one wing housed several clinics of doctors with varying specialties. He brought him in to be thoroughly examined since he doesn't really have a clue to what caused his current state of grogginess aside from what Sharpay told him—and her claim was close to outlandish that he was having doubts about the truthfulness of her accounts.

The lust surging in his veins for Gabriella had to wait for the sake of a long time friendship. And he knew Gabriella would definitely be disappointed or probably get mad at him if he just left Chad like that. Even Sharpay who never fails to express her dislike for Chad went out of her way to help his friend so naturally he, being the best friend, should take the extra effort to make sure Chad is left in a better condition.

Following medical procedures for the check up meant waiting and waiting plus another hour or so . . . waiting for the results of the laboratory tests done on Chad. He had been waiting for so long that he was convinced there is indeed a god in charge of time and this god either hates him with a passion or it happens to be a fan of Ashton Kutcher since he's pulling quite a prank on Troy by making him sit and wait longer than what he expected.

A crack of laughter from the three other occupants of the kitchen brought Troy's musings to an end and he realized that his grandfather was animatedly retelling a story to an amused Gabriella while Mrs. Lewis seem to be inputting some minor details to the old man's tale.

"He did that when he was only six?" Gabriella's hands flew to her cheeks seemingly shocked by Patrick's story.

Mrs. Lewis rejoined. "Six and a half but I think the curiosity started at five."

A soft smile appeared on Troy's face when he saw Gabriella's eyes narrow and her nose scrunched up as if she's in doubt of Mrs. Lewis' words. She never ceases to entertain him with the facial expressions she manages to show depending on her mood. She can look like a four year old one moment whose been denied a favorite toy thus finding solace in pouting then a vixen the next that can seduce a huge number of the male population even without trying.

Quite obviously, he's included in that male population that she's unconsciously seducing . . . especially now that he's still riding on last nights intense sexual high.

Clothed or unclothed, she has a body that unquestionably invited a man's hand to touch it, a pair of russet eyes that mirror an amazing display of naiveté and playfulness but could ignite desire to any straight guy that happens to stare back. And her lips—dewy, soft, perfectly shaped—he will never get tired of feeling it against his own.

Patrick nodded chuckling at the memory. "He's always been curious of the female species and my wife was there when the curiosity struck up that day. He ended up getting ear pinched for attempting to peek under her skirt."

Troy instantly comprehended that his grandfather was telling Gabriella of his naughty childhood days. He straightened from the wall he was leaning against, feeling suddenly indignant and wanting to confront Patrick for narrating his errant behavior as a child to Gabriella.

The small movement alerted Mrs. Lewis of his presence and before Troy could move another muscle, she called out to him. "Troy! We were just talking about you."

"I heard the gist of it, Mrs. Lewis." He drawled shaking his head at the two seniors in mild annoyance before his vision zoomed in on Gabriella.

Brown eyes raised and locked to blue. They held their gazes unblinkingly for some minutes in a silent greeting while the two older people in the room seated between the counter Gabriella was perched on and the entryway where Troy was swung their heads in both directions waiting for either to speak first.

But the couple seems to be content just staring, communicating with their eyes the things that they can't say with words. There was a spark of delight in both their eyes the moment their gazes met, coupled with a hint of knowing mischief and some other vibe that only they could understand. And of course there's the very apparent air of longing and desire which is slightly more pronounced in Troy's piercing blues than in her chocolate orbs.

After a while, Troy took a step inside the kitchen to get to Gabriella but he never once tore his gaze from her in the short walk covering the distance that separated them. When he was close enough, he stood directly in front of her, wrapped his arms possessively around her waist while hers draped over his shoulders then he finally uttered a quiet greeting, "Hi, Mrs. Bolton."

The small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips widened and she whispered in response, "Hi."

He nuzzled their noses lazily, forgetting the presence of his grandfather and the cook that was thoroughly enjoying their show of affection. "Miss me?"

"Yup." She nodded, her fingers unconsciously playing with the ends of his hair that rested on his nape. "You?"

He grinned then pressed his lips to hers briefly. "Hell yeah."

"How's Chad?"

"Much better."

"That's good but someone has to be with him while he's recovering."

"I called his sister. She's with him as we speak."

A deliberate cough cut through their moment then Patrick's voice said, "We're going. It's obvious we're not wanted." It was followed by a shuffling sound, a door swinging as Mrs. Lewis headed off and the click of the cane hitting the tiled floor.

Without moving from the position he was in, Troy addressed his grandfather offhandedly, "You're not wanted."

Gabriella slapped his shoulders lightly but other than that, she didn't move in Troy's embrace either. "Grandpa told me a lot about your childhood adventures."

"That's why he's not wanted."

Patrick surprisingly did not retort back to Troy's pointed remark instead he laughed good-naturedly and ambled to exit the kitchen. Before he showed himself out, he paused by the door and looked at the couple who were back in their own little world talking in hushed tones and had zoned out the rest of their surroundings.

He smiled approvingly at the two. And for the first time in a long time, he felt very, very good about what the future will bring.

"Did you finish the paperwork?" Troy asked when he sensed his grandfather had gone.

Her brows curled in uncertainty and she pulled back slightly from his hold. "What paperwork?"

"Paperwork in the studio." He answered, keeping a straight face when her eyes grew in alarm as it dawned on her what he's talking about.

"Oh!" She breathed, hastily covering up her sudden tension with a wide smile. "Um, yeah. I did. It's finished."

"Really?"

"Yeah!" She nodded vigorously in an effort to convince him of something she didn't do.

He had to hold back a cackle at her futile attempt, enjoying her discomfort in trying to hold a steady gaze. If he hadn't brought Chad in to see a doctor and waited for hours for the results, he might have not learned that she went on a trip to the doctor as well.

Coincidentally, the gynecologist she went to was in the same building as Chad's doctor. When she emerged from the clinic holding a prescription and discussing it with Sharpay along the waiting area, he understood why she was there in the first place.

"So what did Sharpay mean when she said—" Troy paused recalling what he overheard the blond girl say earlier to Gabriella. "Y_ou don't have anything worry to about anymore. The doctor said she gave you the extra strength stuff…proven effective for squashing hyper active fishes swimming in water."_

Her jaw dropped in shock then closed after a few seconds when she found her voice. Those were the exact words Sharpay told her in the clinic. "How do—you were there?!"

"Yep. Three doors away from your gynecologist." He revealed with a sly grin. "But next time tell Sharpay to speak in a low voice especially when she's talking about _squashing_ _my_ _fishes_."

She groaned inwardly but decided to come clean since as Sharpay told her earlier, there really isn't any reason for her to be hiding the fact that she asked the doctor for a morning after pill because of their carelessness last night. They did not have sex to make a baby. They did it out of physical satisfaction but they lost their wits along the way and forgot to use protection.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I don't know why I felt embarrassed to tell you. This is new to me you know." She amended in a despondent tone, focusing her gaze on the edging of her skirt instead of meeting his eyes. "I asked for a pill prescription—the birth control kind. We forgot—"

Troy silenced her with a kiss on the lips. He understood why she was reluctant to tell him. She's never had to deal with this kind of issue before. It must have scared the shit out of her thinking that their first time sex might have made her pregnant. Surely, babies aren't part of the agenda when she decided to have sex with him and he's on the same sentiment as her.

It had alarmed him too when he realized why she paid a visit to a gynecologist. He wanted to smack his head on the wall for failing to think about using a condom. There wasn't even a time, as far as he could remember, that he forgot about protection. He always made sure he engages in protected sex.

He had been so focused on her last night—feeling her against him, pleasuring her, making things easy for her and just the idea of him being her very first sexual partner did unimaginable things to his senses—that he completely spaced out on the matter of protection.

Gabriella was momentarily stunned by his kiss but his hands that found its way inside her shirt caressed her skin soothingly, making her relax and assuring her that there was nothing to be discomfited about.

He murmured against her lips, smiling at the fading pink tint that appeared on her cheeks a minute ago. "I'm sorry I forgot about it last night, Gabi. It's my fault." Then his lips descended to her neck, kissing the smooth column.

"Yes, it was." She sighed tilting her head to give him better access to her neck and closing her eyes to let the tingling feeling of his kisses wash over her. "Uh, Troy . . . with the other girls before . . . you forget it too?"

"Never."

"Why did you forget last night?"

His lips kissed its way to her shoulder, nipping the exposed skin tenderly. "I blame you for that." He jested. "You made me forget."

"You made me forget too."

"I guess were even." He laughed softly, boosting her off the counter and capturing her lips with a hard kiss that made her moan low in her throat.

But when he lifted his mouth and tugged at her arm to lead her toward the exit with the obvious intention of continuing their kissing upstairs in bed, sanity came back to Gabriella. She pulled back her arm to get his attention and voiced out another one of her pressing concern.

"Troy, wait." She said. He stopped and gave her a confused stare. She stuttered to explain. "How—I still don't know how—Marissa's ultimatum. I have to find out who told her about us."

Instead of looking annoyed like she expected, Troy stepped close and smiled at her. He raised a hand to stroke the side of her face as if trying to comfort her worries. "You don't have to prove anything to her."

It was her turn to get puzzled. "But my inheritance is at stake, Troy." She reasoned, slightly hurt that he would think so little of her problem with Marissa. "It's not about the money. It's about getting what's rightfully mine."

"Gabi, I know."

"No, you don't get it." She countered quietly, shaking her head. She wants him to understand why she's worried when it comes to Marissa. "That inheritance is the only—"

He finished for her. "Only connection you have with your parents."

She looked up to see his smiling face but his eyes held a somber expression in them as he gazed into her worried ones. "I know." He repeated, bracketing her jaw with both hands and he stroked the curve of her cheeks with his thumb. "Let me handle Marissa, okay?"

She took a moment to weigh his idea then finding no reason to refuse, she nodded bizarrely pleased that he understands why she beats herself up over her stepmother. Even more so that he would take away her problems and solve it himself. "How? Do you know who told her?"

"No. But didn't you say Marissa also knows about me getting sick?"

"Yes."

"Other than the people in this house, nobody else knows I was sick. Well, except Sharpay but she doesn't count and I doubt my grandfather would chat with Marissa about it." His hand fell away from her face to run up and down her arm in a slow caress. He couldn't seem to stop touching her no matter what they're doing. "It's possible someone in this household is under Marissa's payroll too."

"Oh crap." She groaned smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand for failing to consider that possibility. Even Paolo did not think of that.

He chuckled taking a hold of her hand to stop her from scolding herself and laced their fingers together. "Not exactly crap. In fact, Marissa saved you the trouble of proving we had sex. The entire household already knows. We have Sharpay and Grandpa to thank for that."

"And Chad too." She mused with a hopeful glint in her eyes, already seeing the advantage of the embarrassing experience earlier when they were discovered by the servants and Patrick. If Troy's suspicions are true, Marissa already knows their marriage is a done deal. "But I don't mean that I liked what happened to Chad . . . just how the events played out that lead to them knowing that we did what we did."

"Sometimes you talk too much." Troy said playfully squeezing her cheek with his thumb and forefinger.

She frowned. "You're lucky I like you." She announced in a haughty manner then stepped away from his hold sticking her tongue out at him.

Troy cracked up in laughter. "I like you too, Gabi. I like you in bed with me right now." It was one of her rare abilities to shift from serious to mischievous in a snap that never falls short in entertaining him. "Come back here." He said, reaching an arm out to pull her back in his embrace.

But she evaded him, skirting off in the opposite direction and rounding the kitchen island so that she kept an ample distance from him. "I want ice cream." She announced, smiling with mischief.

He wants her with him—in bed. "I want something better than ice cream." He retorted already getting impatient, striding towards her but before he could grab her she moved around the counter again.

Gabriella could see the sexual longing in his eyes and her deliberate avoidance is obviously aggravating him. But she continued to tease, curious to see what he will do once his patience is stretched thin. "There's nothing better than ice cream. I've been craving for it since I got back."

"Ice cream is bad for you." He played along but waited for a chance to catch her off guard so that he can grab her.

"Ice cream is sweet."

"Sex is pleasurable."

"Ice cream is comfort food. You feel good when you eat it."

"Sex is satisfying. You feel physically contented after you do it."

"Ice cream is—"

"It's fattening. Sex is an exercise only ten times more exciting."

"Well, I still want ice cream." Gabriella insisted firmly. She stifled a laugh when Troy narrowed his eyes and his lips stretched into a thin line as proof of his impatience.

"Hey Troy. Gabriella." Grandpa suddenly appeared in the kitchen, making them whirl around in surprise. He hovered close to the open door with a pleasant aura to his face. It was quite obvious that he heard their banter about ice cream and sex.

"Grandpa, you're still not wanted."

"Don't be rude." Gabriella scolded Troy which added more to his irritation. "Grandpa, would you care for some ice cream?"

"Sure!" Patrick replied eagerly.

Troy cursed aloud, braced his elbows on the counter top and pressed his forehead on the cool surface. He straightened after a couple of seconds and resignedly sat himself on one of the stool chairs. With a surly face, he watched Gabriella take out the tub of strawberry ice cream from the fridge and then scoop some for her and his grandfather.

"Why did you come back here?" He asked Patrick as he scurried over to the table by the window, a bowl of ice cream in one hand and his cane on the other.

"I forgot to tell you two that I'm leaving tomorrow."

Troy's ears perked up. He cast a fleeting glance at Gabriella seated on the stool across him and saw that she was surprised as well. "Leaving as in flying back to Albuquerque?"

"Where else would I be flying off to? I live there."

"Just making sure." He said and the old man seems to have accepted that without much argument.

He looked back at Gabriella and quirked a meaningful brow at her. She smiled and took a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, licking her lips as she ate. "Want some? It's delicious."

Standing from the stool, he moved forward taking the spoon from her hand to scoop up some ice cream but instead of tasting the dessert, he offered it back to her. She gladly accepted. Then once the ice cream was inside her mouth, he leaned down and kissed her, quickly slipping his tongue inside the cool confines.

"Delicious." He confirmed as soon as he drew back. Then before she could react to the devious glint in his eyes, he pulled her up from her seat and unceremoniously hauled her over his shoulder like a sack of cement.

"Troy!" She yelped. "Put me down!"

"You've had enough ice cream." He averred. Then with a hasty half turn, he genially called out to his grandfather, "Goodnight Grandpa."

Patrick emitted a smothered laugh and reminded Troy, "Lock your door."

The din that Gabriella made with her indignant protests did not go unnoticed by the servants in the house. In effect, most of them paused to investigate the reason for their mistress' shrieks and with smiles on their faces, they watched as Troy trudged up the stairs, easily handling the added weight of his wife to his steps, as he continued to ignore her demand to be put down.

They only went back to their duties once the door upstairs closed with a bang and voices were no longer heard from either Troy or Gabriella.

* * *

Gone were the teasing, the smiles and the mischief in their eyes. It was replaced by a heated air that made them restless and eager. With their lips still joined, they moved inside Troy's room. He caught the door with his heel, and when it slammed closed they leaned against it, lost in each other's kisses.

"Gabi, if I don't feel you soon, I'm going to go crazy." Troy murmured against her semi parted lips.

A shiver ran through Gabriella's body at the desire in his voice. "Me too." She covered his lips with her own, asserting her yearning for him.

"I don't think I can go slow." He gruffly said a moment later while pulling her away from the door as he walked backwards to where the bed is and pinned her tightly against the length of his rigid body.

"Then don't go slow." She stated boldly as she kissed the side of his neck before backing out of his arms and looking into his darkened eyes while she carefully began removing her clothes.

As she lifted her shirt off, Troy couldn't believe that Gabriella was undressing herself in front of him without shyness or hesitation. As the shirt fell to the floor, his hands pulled up his own shirt and flung it over his back. In what seem like a slow moving picture, they watched each other remove the lower half of their clothing until she stood before him in just her matching red panties and bra and him in plain black boxers.

When she reached for the clasp of her bra on her back, he said, "Let me do it."

Her hand fell to her sides as he reached his arms to her back for the clasp, letting it fall on the floor as soon as he unhooked the clasp. Then he tugged her to the bed, urging her down until she lay under him, his thumbs looped to the side of her panties and easily rid her of the piece of lace. She did the same to his boxers before he moved over her, blocking out the light from the bedside lamp.

And then rapture began—from demanding kisses, restless hands and warm bodies pressing against each other.

Their tongues dueled fiercely as he cupped her breast, kneading and shaping it to his pleasure. It was quickly followed by his warm mouth lavishing attention to the sensitive bud while she arched off the mattress in invitation to do more. His other hand sought her womanly folds and fingers slipped inside the moist flesh to add more to her passion.

Her own hands were not idle either. It was skimming all over his muscled arms and back while her legs tangled with his, instinctively pressing her soft core to the erect length of flesh.

He began trailing his lips down on her body and once it reached the desired destination, dipped his head to lash his tongue out to the wet throbbing core . . . stroking, licking the soft folds with expertise until she tensed then shuddered in overwhelming rupture, helplessly calling his name.

When she regained her breathing, she pushed him off so that he lay flat on the bed. She wanted to feel a sense of fulfillment for herself. She wants to pleasure him the way he just did her and Troy knew her intention as soon as she dropped kisses to his chest, abs and the line of muscle below his waist. Her hands were languidly stroking his bare leg, from inner to outer thigh to his bent knees and back up.

His heartbeat came in erratic beats while he lay under her somewhat nervous ministrations—waiting, drifting in pleasure, wanting to feel more. After some time, she finally touched his fully aroused penis. He jerked once as if electrified by her hand, bracing himself up on his elbows to watch her.

"You're so beautiful—and so—_big_." She uttered in amazement. As though someone had cast a powerful spell on her being, the reservation and shyness she should be feeling in her second time for sex disappeared. And without scruple, she leaned over him, kissed the tip and took him inside her mouth.

"Shit, Gabi." Troy groaned dropping back on the bed, surprised by her boldness which was quickly overcome by pleasure. He isn't one to complain about the wonderful feel of her mouth or that she's suddenly unleashing her sexual aggressiveness but he doesn't want to waste so much time with foreplay. They can do that in the next round. Right now, it's her he wants. "Babe . . . Gabi, stop . . ." He tugged at her arms to pull her on top of him.

He rolled them over so that she was under him again and he captured her lips in a searing kiss. She clung to his neck, opening her lips to let him delve into the warm confines of her mouth. Silky, wet tongues twisted together—greedy, reckless—wordlessly letting the other know of their desires.

The kiss lasted for endless minutes until Troy lifted his lips and his eyes became eloquent as he stared into hers asking permission. Gabriella gave it without compunction and a second later she felt the hot slide of his rigid member into her inner most center, making them both moan in sudden gratification.

Their bodies molded together like puzzle pieces as he was fully embedded in her. Then soon after, they moved in harmony at a steadily increasing rhythm that forced inarticulate sounds past Gabriella's lips, raising her body to meet his driving strokes.

Troy buried his face in the curve of her neck murmuring words Gabriella could barely comprehend and nipping at her pleasure spot while his arm wrapped around her waist slightly lifting the lower half of her body. He was hungry for her and it showed when a while later he thrust roughly into her at an even faster pace.

His shoulders were sleek and firm, his hair plastered to his forehead with a thin layer sweat and the muscles of his arms resilient as she ran her hands over them, taking in the pleasure of his furious thrusts. Gabriella closed her eyes and moaned. "Oh god . . ."

Suddenly, he stopped and without breaking their joined lower bodies, shifted positions so that he was now sitting on the bed while she was straddling him. He gave her a few moments to adjust to the new position before he curved his hands around her hips and guided her into a tempo that made her forget that they aren't alone in the mansion and that their room isn't sound proof for the loud noises she was making as a result of their activities.

He met her body with upward thrusts of his own, kissing her neck, her breast until they became wild with need. Moving together to reach their peaks, never slowing down, desperate to achieve again the wonderful promise of sensual celebration they got to experience last night.

Soon enough, with the added depth of their position, Gabriella felt the enormous pressure beginning to build within her. Every push Troy made hit the right spot each time, sending her closer over the edge. "Troy . . . I'm almost . . ."

"Look at me." He ordered never letting up with the pace of his thrusts, cradling her face with his palms so that they could stare in each others eyes. "I want to see you when you come."

Maybe it was his erotic words or maybe the wild thrusting of their bodies or something else they haven't discovered yet but shortly after Troy said the words, Gabriella cried out loudly as the pressure inside her exploded to a million pieces before her eyes.

The amazing play of emotions in her glassy eyes when she reached her climax ignited Troy's self control. His arms closed up around her tightly as he arched his back while her deep spasms drove him higher and higher and made him suddenly burst with a shout of male satisfaction, spilling everything inside her tight core like his life depended on her very presence.

They fell back on the bed side by side, bodies quivering from the incredible heights they attained. Only their heavy breathing was heard for some time as they lay exhausted, damp and disheveled.

Limbs and arms were useless for movement.

But despite it all, their eyes told a different story.

As they gazed each other with unspoken emotion neither is ready to acknowledge at this time, Troy moved his right hand with an effort to cover her palm that rested on the pillow beside her face and then threaded his fingers with hers, squeezing tightly.

Gabriella didn't know it but Troy had never held a woman's hand in the aftermath of sex.

* * *

_A/N: I'm loving all the reviews! You guys are so wonderful. _


	17. Chapter 17 Changes

Chapter 17

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything._

* * *

Pleasure came wafting over Gabriella at waking to the sight of a sleeping Troy.

Lying on her belly, she propped up slightly and studied him at leisure, taking note of the compellingly handsome face that can be charming or serious when need be, the light stubble that seem to have grown overnight and his wide torso, muscled in all the right places.

He's quite possibly every hormonal woman's dream guy. And he is—was—as far as she knew. It gave her such a sense of doubt, mixed in with a good amount of pleasure, that someone who's as physically splendid and as enjoyable as him is married to her.

The few girlish times she shared with Sharpay when they were seven years old, imagining the guy they'd be married to—in Sharpay's case, it was always Paolo she envisaged to marry and Gabriella knew it even before the blond girl admitted it to her—or how they wanted the wedding to be, didn't quite come close to reality.

First of all, her wedding was arranged . . . no rational, modern day woman would want that. To say she was unhappy during that day would be an understatement because she was an emotional wreck and Troy, a total stranger at that time, gave face to the guy in her childish imagination.

Before their marriage, her opinion of Troy Bolton was bordering on sordidness and she could not find any good thing about him other than the physical outlook. She understood then why Marissa would choose him to be her husband because he was a cocky, uncaring, thoughtless and self centered prick that doesn't give a damn what others think of him. Plus, his reputation as a ladies man precedes him anywhere.

Marissa was counting on the fact that Troy would definitely raise her hackles with his brash attitude and womanizing ways. She wanted her to be miserable in the arranged marriage. And she might have succeeded too had it not been for that blind date Taylor set up for them.

That was the turning point of their so called marriage because they both agreed to give it a chance. And that chance sure did change a lot! The most prominent change would have to be Troy's attitude. He went from cocky to charming in just a short span of time that if she weren't living with him, she wouldn't have believed it.

From that day, they started to have an actual relationship. It may not have been the conventional type of relationship since they are married but were acting like chums, but it was a good start. So good in fact that it led to the marriage being consummated and to this day of . . . marital bliss?

Okay, not marital bliss exactly.

She shouldn't dare say that at this time what with their marriage being arranged and it's only been months that they've been, in a sense, _together _and not even fully so because of several _issues_ between them that they don't really discuss openly. But whatever it should be or could be called, for now, she's just inexplicably content being with him.

"_We're good together, Gabi."_ He had said to her last night before sleep overcame her senses. Whether he means it in a sexual way or otherwise, she had wholeheartedly agreed because whichever way she looks at it, in the short time that they gave their relationship a chance, they really became good together.

She should probably consider thanking Marissa for choosing Troy.

Silently chuckling, Gabriella immediately shoved the idea aside. She doesn't owe that woman any _thank you_. If she has to thank people, there's a long list of them including Troy and Patrick and even Taylor but her stepmother isn't one of them.

_Is Marissa regretting her decision in choosing Troy?_ As luck would have it . . . most likely so.

And with that small knowledge in mind, she claims victory from her stepmother.

With a satisfied smile on her lips, Gabriella's eyes strayed to the clock hanging on the wall and became conscious that it was time to wake Troy up. But instead of nudging him awake, she decided to try a different approach. She reached out a hand and repeatedly ran the tip of her fingernail on the bridge of his nose in a fluttery stroke.

"Tro-o-oy . . ." She whispered directly to his ear in a sing-song voice.

His head moved slightly to avoid the sound and his nose twitched, but his eyes stayed closed.

"Wake up, Tro-o-oy." She chanted again, continuously teasing his nose but this time pushing against the skin between the nostrils, deforming its shape.

She stifled a laugh then made a deliberate _oink-oink_ sound and said, "Oh look another pig in the room!"

Still no reaction. Not even a slight indication that he was awake.

"Okay, no pigs. You hate pigs." She murmured shaking her head then, as though another brilliant idea flashed in her brain, she pursed her lips doggedly and braced herself a little higher. "Let's join in the rat race! Street rat versus house rat! Who's gonna win?" She exclaimed in an commentator-like tone and began running her pointer and middle finger all over his face, trailing over his shoulders and detouring to his naked chest. "Place your bets everybody!"

But he merely wriggled his nose and did not open his eyes, putting her teasing effort to waste.

Undaunted, Gabriella shimmied over beside him. She propped her upper body, pressing her bare breast against his chest and rested her chin close to his neck. She felt a soft rippling of muscles as his body immediately reacted to her closeness but he still did not open his eyes.

She kissed him on the lips once and said in the huskiest voice she could sound out, "You have an _uprising_ going on down there." Then she let her fingers walk very slowly from his chest, making a beeline for the lower part of his body.

His chest shook in silent laughter as he caught her travelling fingers before it could go further than his abs and finally he opened smiling azure eyes to look at her. "Would you be interested in getting tangled with my uprising?"

Unable to keep a straight face, Gabriella snickered and shook her head. "Nope." She replied bracing up a little to adjust her weight, affording Troy a view of her luscious breasts that made desire run through him, waking his sleepy nerve endings. "I just wanted to wake you up."

"Don't they wake sleeping people with a kiss? Not with pig sounds or rat races."

"That's only true with sleeping princesses in fairytales." She contradicted with a smirk, propping her chin atop her crossed wrist. "You definitely won't pass as a princess and this is no fairytale either."

"Girls usually believe in that stuff."

"I'm 23. I don't qualify as a girl anymore."

"Oh I agree . . ." He concurred in an evocative voice, gently tucking back the few curls that brushed against her cheeks and grinning meaningfully at her.

"Of course." She drolly said.

He smiled charmingly then intoned, "Well, I'm awake."

"Good. Now we have to get up." Gabriella said starting to move but Troy's arms suddenly tightened around her before she could slide off.

Then he swiftly flipped her over. It feels like he's on cloud nine, holding her in his arms like now, waking up to her teasing and just to experience day to day the over all liveliness of their relationship that he didn't think was even possible before. What they have certainly isn't a fairytale and it isn't perfect either, but he'd take this reality any day over some crazy tale involving fairies.

"Not yet." He whispered huskily, his free hand cupping the back of her head threading through the silky curls as he lifted her head up slightly to meet his in a kiss.

He touched his tongue to her lips, sliding between, coaxing them apart and when it did, he plunged his tongue in, sending wave after wave of hot sensation to jolt through Gabriella's body.

It was an unhurried kiss, like he has all the time in the world to explore her mouth and taste its sweetness but it has the same crazily erotic effect as the hard, insistent kisses he showers on her when they're having sex.

Gabriella fought her way above the haze that was beginning to cloud her mind. "Troy, we have to get up . . . now." She tried to articulate through the kiss. "You told me last night . . . we're going to surprise Grandpa . . . by seeing him off to the airport."

However, Troy did not pay her reminder any mind. He made a short humming sound in the back of his throat and kept on lightly kissing her lips, the outline of her jaw, her neck and the valley between her breasts. She looks most beautiful in the morning that between the choice of getting up from bed or enjoying a morning tryst with her, he easily chose the latter.

"Troy . . . we have to drive Grandpa to the airport."

"Few minutes more." He murmured, silencing her reminder with a deep, consuming kiss to which she easily responded to.

But she tore her mouth away before the kiss could blow up into something else—like how their kiss three hours after the first round of sex became the onset for round two. She had to stop him while she still has control of her faculties. They don't have time for a third episode. Grandpa will be gone by the time they're done and she doesn't want that happening. She wants to be able to say a proper goodbye to the old guy.

She let her hand slide from his shoulder to his chest with the intention of pushing him back but she suddenly felt his heart against her palm, beating hard and fast . . . like he just ran a marathon. "Your heart is pounding." She mentioned softly as if amazed by her discovery.

Troy stopped his kisses to look into her eyes then he placed his own palm on her chest and also felt her heartbeat. "Just like yours."

_Does it mean he is affected by their kisses . . . the way that she is? _

"Y-yes." She rejoined, eyeing him warily, noting that something was different about him. Something had changed in the way his striking eyes were gazing at her—something decidedly . . . _loving. _

_Loving?_

Gabriella has gotten so used to his lustful stares even from the beginning that she at once concluded it was her eyes conjuring up something that isn't even there. She blinked once and hastily forestalled her gaze.

"Grandpa is kinda' meddlesome sometimes but I will miss him." She said in a logical tone, already discounting what she saw. "And you know how he is with punctuality."

He chortled but conceded anyway. "Okay, okay!" He pushed his body off of hers. "Let's get ready for the old rouge."

As soon as his weight lifted, she slid off in a glory of curves and shapes and started away from the bed in search for her shirt among pieces of clothing strewn about the carpeted floor.

Troy followed her movements and took in the sight of her nakedness glowing in the morning light streaming through the curtained windows behind her, admiring every bit of gorgeousness that he had thoroughly touched and kissed merely a few hours ago.

"Stop looking at me that way." Gabriella rebuked to cover up her sudden fluster when she noticed his look, grabbing the clothing next to her foot and then quickly slipped it on. It's a different case when he stares at her while having sex, but outside of it she feels a little bit awkward. When she isn't overcome with desire thus able to think clearly, she's not as confident in front of him without her clothing.

"I can't do that." He drawled in mild objection, sitting back against the pillows propped up by the headboard to better see her, rather enjoying her reticence. "That's like depriving myself of a favorite pastime."

She rolled her eyes but she couldn't stop the blush that suddenly colored her cheeks when she realized it was his shirt she fished out from the floor. It was too large for her tiny frame but it did well to cover her body, the hem ending mid thigh.

"See? Even my shirt finds its way around you."

Gabriella ignored the sexual comment with a wave of the hand as she rushed to the bathroom to get ready.

* * *

The three weeks following Patrick's departure started another change in Troy and Gabriella's relationship. It was probably the most subtle of the all the changes that happened between them because they were already in that level of being comfortable with each other that neither realized it was even occurring.

During weekdays, work took up most of their time. But even if the days were filled with impossible work schedules that included meetings, shoots, and a little travelling once in a while, they would often find ways to get together in between the craziness of their respective careers.

On a number of instances, Gabriella, who had the more flexible work time—her time at the studio usually starts mid morning and ends late at night, would drop by Troy's office building so that they could have lunch together, either just the two of them or at times with his business associates.

The frequent visits to his office familiarized her with the amount of work that Troy actually does and the enormous responsibility upon him, not just for the people under the corporation's employ whose jobs are on the line if he makes a miscalculated decision but also for the corporation itself where more than half of its income comes from the restaurants, bars or clubs that Troy is mainly in charge of. He isn't one of the figure heads that's why he dresses more casually than most executives . . . Patrick still holds that position and so does Troy's father . . . but Troy's position is definitely of huge importance to the company.

She also became friendly with most of the employees of Reiss Corporation especially the secretaries and staff on the executive floors who would often gush about her husband's impressive business acumen and then later on, most of them sheepishly admitted to having a crush on him. It didn't come as a surprise to Gabriella anymore. Knowing Troy better than before, she couldn't really blame any of them. But while most of them expected her to be annoyed by all of her husband's admirers, Gabriella actually felt proud because the admiration is well justified.

There were also instances where she would spend the few hours before she was required in the studio in Troy's private office. She would just sit in one of the corner couches so as not to get in the way of his daily work schedule or with the tide of people who come and go in his office with their varying concerns that needed his attention.

From her corner, she would either occupy herself with going over a certain model's portfolio, tinkering with her camera or simply reading a book—all the while throwing brief glances at Troy going about his work.

At the outset, she thought he wouldn't like her presence there because it meant she was another person he has to mind and she doesn't even have anything to do with his work, but as she discovered, it wasn't the case.

_She looked up from the page of the art book she has been staring keenly at when a faint shadow cast over the page. "Troy!" She exclaimed, surprised that he was in front of her when just a second ago he was seated behind his desk mulling over a stack of papers. "You're done?"_

_He grinned. "Far from it." _

"_You want me to go—"_

_His next move was so abrupt, that Gabriella could only yelp in reaction when Troy suddenly scooped her out of the couch, sat himself on the space she vacated while sitting her on his lap and capturing her lips in a kiss that was enough to curl her toes with its intensity and passion._

_Then when he was satisfied, he stood up, placed her down on the couch, gave her an endearing smile and a kiss on the cheek then went back to his desk to continue his paperwork as if what he did to her was all part of his office routine._

"_Wha—" Gabriella tried to speak, both confused and physically bothered by his unexpected kiss. "What was that for?"_

_He shrugged nonchalantly, already seated on his chair, and answered, "Just making sure that you're still here and it's also a preview."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Preview for tonight." Then he winked at her before pressing the intercom to tell his secretary to send in whoever wanted to see him._

Apparently, he liked having her in his office while he's working as much as he liked having her in bed.

In truth, she had lost track of how many times they've had sex. Not that she's counting anyway but their nights are always a passionate feasting of bodies that can't seem to get enough of each other despite the many times and many ways they express their physical wanting. It's as if there is a written rule between them that nights should be a time for physical release after several hours apart.

Gabriella had been a little uneasy at first that a mere kiss could easily arouse her senses but she had learned to accept the fact that Troy has that effect on her and she can't deny to herself that he wants him just as much as he does. However, more than the actual sex, she enjoys most what comes after, when he would hold her in his arms, lazily tracing the outline of her body and talking quietly about trifle matters that come to mind until they both fall asleep.

But sometimes it wasn't just Gabriella who makes the effort, if his schedule permits, Troy would come by the studio and surprise her of his presence in the middle of a shoot, bringing in an assortment of food for everyone or intermittently giving out passes to one of his clubs, which her staff greatly appreciates and as a result of his thoughtfulness, most of them had grown rather fond of him and even went as far as including him in their tight little circle.

When there are days that they are both extremely busy with absolutely no time to spare, Troy often calls her just like when they first became friends, asking about her day, the shoot she was doing, about one or the other person in her staff or just plain randomness.

It was these little things that the people around them noticed most about the couple. They aren't flaunty with their affections in public but the _chemistry_—evident in their eye contact, their body language or how one seem to know what the other is thinking even without saying anything—spoke volumes, that one look alone will tell you, whether you know them or not, they are a couple.

Of course, they also make for a striking pair and especially when they first attended a social event arranged by Sharpay for Gucci, a lot of the guests ended up smiling at the two who were far from each others side only once the entire night.

What they didn't know though was during that occasion, Troy grew annoyed with the stares being thrown at Gabriella by quite a number of men, who either did not know she was taken or was purposely ignoring that fact that she had a ring on her finger, that he made it a point to stay by her side at all times.

"_Your friends are waving at you, Troy. Don't you want to go to them?" Gabriella asked, concerned that he was probably feeling obligated to stick by her side thus forgoing his chance to blend in the crowd like he usually does._

"_Not really." Came his terse reply. _

_She was taken aback by the curtness of his tone. "Why not? Most of the people here know you too and they've been wanting your attention."_

"_Do you have any idea how you look like?"_

_It was another one of his off questions that did nothing but baffle before it could enlighten her, but she replied anyway. "I look the same as any day except with a nice dress." _

"_There's nothing ordinary about how you look, Gabriella. You're fucking gorgeous and most of the dickheads here see it."_

"_Are—are you jealous?" It was an incredulous assumption but the gleam of annoyance in his eyes told her he might be._

_He didn't at once answer her. Gabriella felt him stiffen slightly like he was surprised by her query and had realized how foolish his reaction was. He eyed her strangely and after a minute, released a heavy sigh. "No." He said. "I'm just being stupid. Sorry. I'll go mingle."_

_The small spurt of joy that was budding inside Gabriella over the fact that he might be jealous was instantly doused by his denial. She didn't know what exactly happened to him to react that way when there were also several females staring longingly at him. But if the angry flare in his eyes that seem to have pierced right through her is any indication, she assumed Troy just had an internal battle with his brain that had something to do with his past and Gabriella wasn't privy to whatever that was._

That strange behavior didn't repeat itself though. Troy was back to his usual cool and caring self that very night when he came back to her side and the days that followed were pretty much the same that Gabriella eventually forgot what had happened, along with her intention to ask him about it.

Save for the issue about not knowing anything of Troy's past, overall, the three weeks were spent with a degree of contentment that both of them were happy about. And with reference to their frequent sexual joining, it also became clear that Marissa already knew they were having sex when she did not bother to call Gabriella after the three day ultimatum lapsed.

But as for Marissa's source in the mansion, though it didn't matter all that much anymore to Gabriella, Troy was still on the case of finding out who the culprit is.

* * *

"Can you explain this . . . _project_ or whatever you call it?" Troy's amused tone echoed behind Gabriella who had her full concentration on a huge canvass she splattered with a multitude of colors and propped up against a half painted wall.

She jumped in surprise at the sudden sound and whirled around abruptly while holding a paint brush, wet and dripping with an orange color, accidentally streaking paint across the dark flooring and onto Troy's face.

Russet eyes widened as Gabriella gasped and, dropping the paint brush to the floor where several open cans of paint were laid out on top of a manila paper, her hands flew over her gaping mouth upon seeing Troy's perfectly astounded expression as the orange paint splashed diagonally on his face, making a thick line from his right jaw, the corner of his lips, across his nose and stopping over his eyelids before it slowly dripped down to his pristine white shirt like a nonfigurative art work.

"Oh. My. Goodness." She spurted out and eyed Troy who appeared like he was still processing why his face was suddenly covered with a bright orange color when all he did was walk into the partially constructed master's bedroom in search of his wife and ask a perfectly logical question. "Look what you made me do."

He regained his wits after ten seconds or so and used his hands to wipe the paint off his eyelids and on the corner of his mouth then bellowed in an annoyed tone. "What I made you do?! You splattered orange paint on my face!"

"You crept up on me!"

"You better come up with a fucking convincing explanation for whatever you're doing here or else . . ."

"Please believe me when I say _THAT_ is not intentional . . . but accidental." Gabriella interrupted, already wary of his next move.

"Do I look like I give a shit which one it is?!"

She shook her head dutifully but she was ready to erupt in giggles at the sight of him—all orange and pissed. "No. You look more like an orange." She swallowed a bout of hilarity then continued. "That got—_pulped_!"

His blue eyes narrowed intently at her face that was doing it's best to keep an innocent bearing. "You're mocking me." He stated with sureness and there was some sort of warning in his voice.

"Of course not!" She objected with what she hoped was an indignant tone. "I take offense to that, Troy. I would never make fun of someone who just got painted orange no matter how _juicy it looks_."

"How saintly of you." He grumbled with deliberate sarcasm then he took off his shirt to use it to wipe the rest on the paint on his face.

Failing to hold it in any longer, Gabriella burst out in laughter. "A few stripes of black and you're good to go as a basketball!" She retorted in between laughs. "Add in white stripes then you're Nemo—that's gonna be so cute!"

Troy growled, threw his shirt on the floor and suddenly leaped forward to grab her but Gabriella was quick to react despite weltering in mirth. She skipped backwards and waved a finger at him. "No way." She said still giggling. "You should consider taking a bath before I come near you. I don't like my guys . . . _orange_!"

"Talk all you want, Gabi. When I catch you, you'll wish you never played with paint."

"Oooh, I'm scared." She mocked with a fake shudder.

"You should be."

"For the record, Troy, I wasn't playing with paint. I was making a backdrop for a shoot."

"Yeah, sure and of all the places to paint, you had to choose this room."

"Because I didn't want to make a mess on the other rooms."

"Whatever."

They ran all over the spacious room for a good five minutes with Troy trying to outsmart Gabriella's evading tactics. She was like a pro slipping from Troy's hands and weaving with precise movements through some construction tools and materials left in the room by the workers who were reporting back to work the next day, Monday.

And it didn't help that she still taunted him while laughing merrily. "What's wrong, Troy? _Orangeyou_ glad you came in here?"

"Haha." He intoned in mild frustration.

Troy was almost ready to give up the chase and declare her victorious not because he was tired or couldn't keep up with her sprightly moves but because the smear of orange paint was beginning to dry and harden, tightening the skin on his face to a point of discomfort. But he inadvertently stumbled on the orange coated paint brush Gabriella dropped earlier and a eureka-moment crossed his mind.

He stopped chasing her to pick up the brush, dipped it the can of royal blue paint and when Gabriella skipped past him, he repeatedly whipped the brush in her direction to spatter the paint on her.

She shrieked as paint landed on her clothes and on her left cheek, arms and the backs of her legs. "Hey! No fair!" She protested, aghast by the blue taint all over herself. She looked even worse than Troy.

With his turn to laugh, Troy took no time in grabbing her hand, tugging her next to him and planting a kiss on her clean cheek. "Blue looks good on you, Gabi."

She stepped closer to him and wiped the side of her face on his bare chest. "On you too."

With mischief in their eyes, they stared at each other for a moment as if waiting, daring the other to make a move but instead of going on an all out paint splattering contest, they erupted in laughter together and made fun of their paint streaked looks.

"We should wash this off." Troy suggested as he handed Gabriella his white shirt to wipe off the rest of the blue paint.

"Swim?" She inquired.

"With you?"

"Who else?"

He grinned. "Let's go then."

Gabriella moved from his side and got behind him, jumping on his back. His hands immediately closed around her thighs, holding her legs securely on either side of his waist while she wrapped her arms over is shoulders and kissed the side of his neck. "Get moving, Bolton."

Once they reached the door, both looked back inside the unfinished master's bedroom. Troy let his eyes roam the space and couldn't help but smile at the picture that was forming in his mind about what their room will look like once it's finished.

Despite the many uncertainties and issues between them, they still managed to come this far and so a new room is only fitting for this unexpected milestone in their arranged marriage. And frankly, he couldn't wait to move in.

But Gabriella had other thoughts in mind. "The workers will not be happy with the mess on the wall and the floor."

"I won't tell if you won't."

She tipped her head to look at his face with its lips curved in an impish smile. "Deal."

* * *

_**A/N:** **Cyber hugs to everyone of my amazing readers/reviewers.** I love love reading all of t. **ZacFan18** & **didumissmeofcourseudid**, thanks for the very nice reviews and for reviewing even the previously posted chapters. And of course to **sheena**, it's always fun reading your review. I wish I could type all your names here but that will take up so much time and that's something I dont have a lot of._

_I'm not so sure about this chapter. Not as exciting but this sorta explains the phases in TG's relationship that I wanted them to have. And I'm sure you noticed I didnt include Patrick's actual leaving...the scene of him leaving is just that--him leaving, so I decided to just skip it._

_Thanks guys!_


	18. Chapter 18 Further

Chapter 18

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

She pulled off her soiled tank top, tossed it over the nearest chaise then it was followed by her shorts, all the while Troy was watching her do it. There was nothing new about her stripping in front of him, most times she isn't even left with anything to cover her like the turquoise bikini set she's currently wearing. But he still couldn't resist staring.

She is every man's dream. Beautiful, smart, sweet, funny and downright sexy. Gabriella is the kind of woman a man looks at, then starts dreaming about it. She is that dreamy—like a prize to be won.

That was Troy's problem almost five months ago. Since he had gone on his self imposed celibacy back then, he had done a great deal of dreaming about her but thankfully though, things had turned out excellently for him because dreamy isn't the case now. When his dreams became a reality, he became physical, sexually active with the dream woman.

He loves seeing that passionate side of Gabriella when they're having sex. She was a little reserved the first few times, holding back on her desires but with his constant urging and repeated practice she had let go and became an irresistible goddess who willingly participates in their tumultuous coupling. Whether he took her roughly or with deliberate slowness until she would order him to go faster, he was enjoying every minute of their time together.

And it wasn't just about the sex—so awesome that it is. He also takes pleasure in spending idle time with her or just goofing around and teasing each other. That was the beauty of their cozy little set-up. Although they were forced to marry, starting over as is proper, giving a chance at friendship while well into the marriage, gave them a more solid base for a relationship.

"Deep in thought." She mused, quirking a brow at him while she knotted her hair into a loose bun top her head. "Or staring at my breasts."

His eyes lifted up from staring at the swell of her breasts underneath the push up bra and focused to look at her inquiring ones. He smiled. "Admiring."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

He chuckled, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her tiny waist. "You mean I won't be lucky tonight?"

"Very astute, Troy Bolton!" She retorted with mock derision but even as she does so, she was already clinging to his neck.

"You're willing to stand by this decision?"

"Absolutely."

"Second thoughts maybe?"

"None whatsoever."

"So there's nothing I can do to make you change your mind?"

She shook her head pretending to be adamant. But as if with an afterthought, she asked, "What exactly do you plan on doing to make me change my mind?"

He grinned, tightening his embrace on her, lifting her up slightly and pressing the junction between her thighs against his erection that was beginning to assert itself under his board shorts. He grinned even more when she gasped. "I believe in the element of surprise." He whispered close to her ear. "You'll just have to wait to find out, won't you?"

"Well, whatever that is, I'm sure it won't sway me to reconsider."

"Let's just see about that."

"You sound so sure." She stated, welcoming his deliberate actions of chafing her against his growing bulge.

"I am." He countered smugly. His hands lowered down to her butt and gave it a light squeeze. "I can feel you're beginning to waver even now and I'm not doing anything yet."

"Maybe I'm sending you mixed signals."

He cracked up at this. "Really lame, Gabi."

"Whatever, Troy. You like me anyway."

"It's no secret." He said without opposition then promptly lowered his head to capture her smiling lips in a kiss.

Gabriella knew what he was about to do before Troy bent his head. This had happened several times already. They'll be teasing one moment then would be making out the next. She was perfectly fine with it but even so, keeping in line with her teasing, she refused to be seduced by his lips. She stayed within the circle of his arms, letting him kiss her but she did her best not to respond.

Troy recognized her resistance when she persistently kept her lips closed for his tongue. Undaunted by the minor set back, he took it as a challenge and doubled his efforts to elicit a response from her.

It was like a game for them that started about two weeks ago. She would try her very best not to give in to his seduction while he would do his part in making sure her resistance becomes futile. Sometimes her opposition crumbles easily, other times it takes longer than he would like almost driving him to frustration but either way it goes, the ending is always pleasurable for them both.

And this one won't be different either. It might even be better than the previous times.

Troy moved his hands, placing one on the small of her back and the other slipped over her rib cage as he slowly slid it up to cup the underside of her breast through the turquoise bra then his fingers tightened suddenly over the fullness.

Gabriella took a sharp intake of breath, allowing Troy to slash his tongue inside and deepen the kiss. Much as she would like to just stand there and let him do all the kissing, she's unable to resist her own hunger for him any longer. With a moan of defeat, she began kissing him back with pure abandon.

His finger then slid inside the cup of her bra top and purposely grazed the tightly budded nipple in its confine, making her body press closer against his erection. She almost cried out loud at the blessed feeling and briefly she forgot that she's supposed to be taunting him, not wanting him to do more. She suddenly wants her breast exposed to his warm hands, his teasing mouth . . . she wants to feel him inside her . . .

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked through the kiss. It came off like a rough whisper as though it was becoming painful for him to speak properly.

Gabriella drew her arms from around his neck; his voice allowing some sanity to come back in her head, then she leaned away from him to say, "Can you stop?"

"No."

"You have to—not here. The servants are—"

He kept on with the assault on her lips, making sure she feels the hot need inside of him through the kiss. "I told Norris we are not to be disturbed."

She slipped her hands between them and shoved against his honed chest until his hands and lips disconnected from her. "Nice try, Troy, but today is not your lucky day." She avowed, breathing hard like she just climbed a thousand steps of stairs without pause. Much as she likes to continue, she's not quite prepared to be kinky with him while they're still smeared with paint and most especially not in the indoor pool area enclosed with glass panels that anybody who passes by can see what they're doing.

His eyes looked disbelieving for a brief moment then it was quickly replaced by a gritty spark. "Okay."

Surprised that he simply relented when judging from the tent on his shorts it was plainly obvious he is well aroused already, Gabriella doubtfully inquired, "That's it? No arguments?"

"None but it doesn't mean I can't do this—" He suddenly grabbed her waist and made a quick sprint toward the pool, jumping in, with her securely wrapped in his arm, as he reached the edge.

She shrieked. But it was too late.

The loud splash disturbed the stillness of the water and cut through the silence inside the pool area when they plunged in then it was followed by Gabriella sputtering water as she indignantly whined her displeasure at the sneaky move.

"Urgh!" She grumbled, gathering her hair that came unbound, her composure and the expelled air from her lungs. "You will be the death of me!"

He merely laughed and adjusted the strap of her bra that fell off her shoulder. "Ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To swim!" He said, unwrapping his arm from her waist and swimming a little ways away.

A little disconcerted that the direction of her thoughts was on the dirty path, Gabriella sighed and trailed behind Troy who was smirking at her like he can see what was running inside her head.

But as soon as she relaxed and concentrated on the warm and relaxing water surrounding her skin, Gabriella began gliding through the pool like an expert swimmer. So did Troy. And with no time at all, they were swimming shoulder to shoulder while doing laps on the rectangular pool. Next, they swam circles around each other in a flirtatious attempt to tug off their scant clothing and splashed water in each others direction, floating side by side in the clear water, skin to skin. They did this for several minutes before both decided it was time to take a short rest.

Troy tipped his head toward the shallower end, silently telling her to follow him. She did but kept a good distance away to watch him stretched out in the water moving his body to stay afloat, his muscles rippling with the pool water as he swam.

"Come on." Troy said when he noticed her staring. He leaned against the pool tile and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for her to swim close.

She smiled that cute little smile of hers, blushing a little at being discovered she had been staring at him, and slowly swam over to where he was. She moved naturally through the water. Troy had his eyes glued on her thinking how lucky he is to have her with him right now. Things could have gone so wrong and so ugly between them but a small twist of events made all the difference.

But how long will his luck with Gabriella stay?

Their future is so uncertain that just thinking about tomorrow or the subsequent days makes him almost afraid to invest so much into their relationship. He's afraid he'll wake up one day and all of this will be gone. Just like what happened to him and Julie. Yet, even as he holds back on his feelings—or at least tries to—he knows the time for holding back has sailed months ago. He's already too attached, too involved.

The rules he set for relationships went flying out the window the moment he began spending every waking moment with Gabriella and gradually began discovering what a wonderful person she really is. It was amazing how she managed to draw out the old Troy—the less cynic, less guarded Troy—with the simple but endearing things she does for him. And he didn't even realize she was unwittingly doing it until last Friday when he talked to Chad.

"_This is your wife were talking about! Not one of those one time fucks you had plenty of in the past." Chad had said when out of the blue, he dropped by his office. They were talking about nothing in particular at the start then the topic shifted in the direction of Gabriella, their marriage and how happy he seem to be because of her._

"_Because it's temporary. What we have is a five year marriage." He reminded him, a little irritated at the mention of the terms of their legal union._

"_Tell me, Troy, in all the time you spend with Gabriella—in bed or out of it—does the words 'five year marriage only' ever enter your mind?"_

"_No."_

"_No?"_

"_Not ever."_

"_Is this about having a good fuck for five years?"_

_Troy's eyed narrowed dangerously at the unbecoming impression Chad was trying to associate Gabriella with but he did not back down. He met his friend's gaze squarely. _

"_Talk about my wife like that again and I will throw you out the window." Troy said with unmistakable warning in his voice._

"_My wife." Chad repeated with a grin, bobbing his head favorably, paying no heed to the ire in Troy's voice. "A very husbandly term."_

"_Why did you come here again?!"_

"_Why do you still think you're only married to her for five years? You're obviously happy with her and she's looking just as happy to be with you and the rest of humanity, including my wonderful self, can see it."_

_Chad indolently leaned back against the backrest of the leather seat across Troy's desk, carefully observing his friend like he is a qualified psychologist having a session with a disturbed patient. After a minute of silence, Chad's suddenly straightened on his seat. "You know . . . I've seen you this happy with Julie but somehow it's still different. You look much happier now."_

"_Don't mention her name!" Troy snapped._

_Chad's eyes grew wide in realization—a realization he didn't particularly like. "Oh fucking crap! This is the problem!"_

"_What?"_

"_Do you still love Julie?!"_

"_What kind of question is that?!" Troy lashed out in aggravation. "I hate her."_

"_I _hated_ her—as in, in the past, Troy. Because what she did to you was fucked up. I still don't like her but I don't hate her now because that was a along time ago. She's of no importance to me so I am not wasting my energy carrying this grudge for her after all these years. And what I mean by that is, you should do the same!" Chad said, ranting out words with ill concealed frustration. "When I ask you if you still love Julie, a proper answer would have been a simple no."_

"_I hate her that means I don't love her."_

"_Listen to yourself, Troy. You sound like a fickle minded girl!" Chad retorted, standing from his seat and pacing back and forth on the plush carpeting. "You shouldn't hate Landis. You should be fucking over her—it's been years! You shouldn't be snapping at me when I mention of her name. Forget her! I'm sure she's forgotten about you and doesn't even think of you! Don't let her have a hold on your life, man. For someone who claims to hate her, you give her such importance by letting what she did to you affect your decision on other women. You have to move on!" _

_When Troy didn't attempt to reason out or defend his side, Chad prodded on. "Am I right to assume that once your five year marriage to Gabriella is over, you'll go back to pining on Landis again? Coz' that's what you were doing before you got married."_

"_No!" Troy denied. "I am not pining for her--never did. I don't give shit about her. I don't love her anymore. I'm fine with Gabriella and with my life now." But no matter how fervidly he rebuffs Chad's allegation, in the back of his mind, he knows Julie has been the reason for all the meaningless dalliances he had with women and the reason for his hesitation to let his feelings free with Gabriella._

"_If that's the case then what the hell are you waiting for?" Chad asked, waving his arms in the air in agitation. _

"_Either my brain is stuck somewhere in the horizon or you're enjoying asking me this ambiguous questions." Troy snorted, pushing aside the stack of folders on his desk._

"_Okay, okay—let me put it another way for your suddenly stupid brain." Chad stated, moving back into the seat he previously occupied. "Hypothetically, let's say—"_

"_Hypothetically?" Troy echoed his face clearly astounded by Chad's sudden utilization the word. "You know this word? What it means?"_

"_It means assumed for arguments sake. I hear Sharpay say it all the time."_

"_I'm—Evans? You and Evans—all the time?" _

"_Yeah, yeah, I've been making it up to her for saving my ass in the club—but don't change the subject."_

_Troy raised both arms in surrender. "No wonder you're beginning to talk like her." He said under his breath._

_Whether Chad heard it or not, he went back to his interrupted query. "Let's say, five years is done, your obligation to stay married to Gabriella is over. You've had a happy five years with her but it's time to end things. Time to move on with your lives outside of the arranged marriage—what will you do then?"_

_Something in the casual way Chad had described the five years, hypothetical it may be, put Troy in the scenario of what the future will be like. And Chad's simple question bothered him deeply. Just imagining a moment like that with Gabriella, tugged at his heart and he silently asked himself, can he just let go after five years?_

"_Rearrange your marriage." Chad suggested when he did not answer._

"_I can't do that! It's in her father's will!"_

_Chad shook his head letting Troy know of his disappointment. "You know it's situations like this that make me wonder how the fuck you are able to manage a chain of business all over the country when a simple task of telling your wife that you don't want the marriage to last for five years only is so hard for you to grasp!"_

_Troy was dumbfounded by the strong annoyance in Chad's tone and the fact that his usually I-could-care-less friend understands his situation with Gabriella better than he does. And Chad even makes it sound so easy—maybe because it is. He was the one making things complicated by thinking way too much of their relationship. And much as he hated to admit it, he had really let his experience with Julie cloud his decisions._

"_You think . . . Gabi will want to stay married to me past five years?"_

"_How should I know? I'm not Gabriella. Ask her."_

Once she swam within his reach, Troy pulled her close to him, feeling suddenly nervous of what he was about to suggest. He was supposed to ask her yesterday but she spent most of the day in the studio and when she came back that night, she was too exhausted to do anything but sleep. He wanted to ask her earlier while they were in the master's bedroom but paint got in the way. Hopefully, he would get to ease into the subject now that they're alone and simply swimming at leisure.

"You swim real well." He casually commented when she settled next to him, their hips touching underwater.

"You too. I love to swim though. It's sorta therapeutic after a stressful day at work and it's an excellent exercise. Kinda like how shopping is therapeutic too."

He chuckled. "Did you take lessons? Coz' I did."

"Shopping lessons? There's no such thing."

Troy laughed and lightly bumped his hips to hers, upsetting her balance a little but he quickly held on to her waist before she could slide sideways. "Swimming lessons!"

"Nah. My dad—he taught me."

"I see." Troy said, noticing the blank look on her face at the mention of her father. "I used to watch you when you were swimming—you know, months back when we weren't exactly cordial with each other."

Her face enlivened in surprise. "You watch me?" She inquired dubiously. "If I remember correctly, you hated me."

"I never hated you." He objected, draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. "I hated the idea of being forced to marry you but I had nothing against you. You, on the other hand . . . you hated me, didn't you?"

She shook her head. "Hate is such a strong word for someone you hardly know. I didn't hate you." She admitted. She raked her fingers through his wet hair and relished the feel of his body against her, all hard planes and angles. "You annoyed me so it was annoyance more than hatred. But it doesn't matter now because we're here at this time—you're hugging me. I'm hugging you back."

"Damn right."

"If we weren't forced to marry, we might have never met."

"Or maybe we would have met—who knows?" He alleged. "We move in the same circle. Some of my peers know your friends. It's only a matter of time before our paths crossed."

"Maybe."

"One thing is sure though, had we met like that, I won't rest until I make you agree to go on a date with me."

She giggled at the resolve in his voice, angling her neck as he dipped his head to kiss the curve of skin between her neck and shoulder. "But . . . Troy, you were really watching me before?"

"Hmmm." He intoned then as he lifted his head, he added, "I even dreamed about it . . . you were against the wall . . . I was supporting you up."

"What?" She leaned away slightly to look at his face and determine if he was jesting or not.

"Want me to demonstrate?"

"No—I'm just surprised."

"Don't be. That's the effect you have on me."

"How long did I have this effect on you?" She asked as he resumed the pleasurable task of kissing her neck and the underside of her jaw. They had never had conversations like this where there is reference to the first few months of the marriage, probably because they weren't as comfortable with each other the way they have been of late and thus assumed it would be an awkward topic. But it didn't look that way now that they're slowly easing into it.

He paused the kissing to think and answered before pressing his lips back to her skin. "Since the night of the wedding."

"It's all about the sex, isn't it?"

"It _was_."

"And now?"

"It's more than that, Gabi, and I know you are aware of it." He said. This time cupping her face with his hands. "You are, aren't you?"

She bit her lower lip. "Well, I always did think it was about the sex." She averred but hurriedly continued when she saw a flash of affront in his eyes. "But after several instances that suggested otherwise, not anymore."

"Good."

"This is nice."

"What is?"

"Talking about our not so distant past."

He laughed warmly. "You know what would be nicer?"

"No, but I sense you're gonna tell me."

"To get out of the water. We're going to look like prunes if we stay in any longer."

She agreed and they swam over to the side of the pool where the steps were located. Troy had foregone the use of the steps, using his well muscled arms instead as leverage to push his body out of the water. Then he assisted Gabriella as she climbed up from the pool.

They settled on one of the larger chaise chairs after drying themselves and lay side by side, facing each other. Their bodies automatically curved to fit the other like two pieces of a whole. Gabriella had her head propped on Troy's upper arm and she draped one leg over his left leg, his free hand immediately resting on her thigh.

"You're right. This is definitely nicer." Gabriella spoke first, snuggling closer to the warmth of Troy's body.

"Will you keep agreeing with me?"

"Why? What else do you want me to agree to?"

"Permanence." He stated quietly but Gabriella felt the gradual increase of his heartbeat and his body became tense, like he was anticipating with abated breath what her next words will be.

But she has no idea what he means. She raised her head up slightly to better see his face and maybe get a clue as to what he's trying to say. "Permanence of—what?"

"Status."

The term lost in translation is probably apropos to describe the thought processing in her brain because nothing brilliant or logical is popping up at the moment. "Please stop the one word clarification. It's confusing me even more." She complained. "What status are you talking about?"

"Our status." He replied, pulling her up a little so that their heads are at level and he can stare straight into her eyes. "I'm talking about permanence of _our status_."

Silence followed. It was lengthy and, in a way, deafening. Even the distant sounds coming from somewhere in the house could be heard inside the pool area.

Once she was sure the pool water did not impair her hearing, Gabriella remained perfectly still in his arms—except for her heart that felt like will leap out of her chest any moment because of its erratic thumping.

His meaning became clear but she didn't dare move because, with all the doubt in her mind, she was preparing herself when he would suddenly say, _Ha! The joke's on you, Gabi! _

When minutes passed and he didn't show any inclination to speak—_much to her relief_—she kept her eyes and the rest of her functioning senses focused on Troy that even if an earthquake occurred or the chaise they were laying on suddenly gave out and crashed to the floor, she probably wouldn't even notice. She stared at him with uncertainty and wariness, searching the blue depths of his eyes for whatever she could find in them to tell her he's being sincere and that his decision did not root out of obligation or guilt.

What she saw was hopefulness and, puzzlingly so, a hint of fear.

"Do you plan on speaking anytime soon?" He asked quietly but with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Still too shaken to put her thoughts into words, Gabriella nodded her head. Just yesterday she had been worrying about her feelings for him that had evolved into something more complicated and became difficult to contain. Yet as past experience dictates, she told herself not to put her heart on the line for something that won't even last.

She had always believed that if she became too happy, too settled and when things seem like they're going in her favor, something bad would happen that will make her suffer for being complacent. Her life has always been the good things compensated by the bad. And now that Troy is suggesting on ending the major limiting factor of their personal relationship—something that she also wants—things couldn't get any better.

Which means that, from here on, things will get worse. But maybe, _just maybe_, this one will be different.

Maybe her streak of failed relationships is about to change—all she has to do is take a chance. And lately, she's been thinking about what it would be like to actually be Mrs. Bolton for more than five years.

She carefully untangled herself from his hold and sat up on the chaise next to his hip. She didn't think she could put what she's feeling into words until she kept her eyes trained on him and inquired somberly, "Are you like . . . sure?"

There was no mistaking his firm reply. He looked like he already did a lot of thinking about it. "Yes."

Troy was watching her closely and she could almost see the wheels of his mind working on trying to predict the next words that will come out of her mouth.

"This may sound stupid but . . . I'm scared." She admitted on an undertone, her gaze dropping to the folded hands on her lap.

"It's not stupid." He whispered back, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek in a tender caress as he sat up the chaise as well. He understands where she's coming from. They were not playing around the five year contract anymore—it will be long term. And it's like taking an enormous risk because this isn't about simply enjoying each others company. It now means a lot more than that. "I'm scared too but I don't want to wake up one day wondering what could've been."

"But what if . . ."

"Gabi, ever since we got married, there has been so many what if's, should be's, could be's and maybe's between us. We don't fall under the hearts-and-flowers or stars-in-your-eyes kind of couple—but hey, we're still here. That must account for something, right?"

_How do you argue to a speech like that?_

Deciding she's thinking much too hard of something that could or could not happen, she shoved her worries aside and let herself wallow in this moment which means a whole lot more to her than their lavish wedding in Italy.

A half smile grazed her lips and then she met his eyes again. "Will anything change between us?"

"I don't see why anything should change. I kinda like how we are—unless you plan on being a shrewish wife."

"And you, an impossible husband?"

He laughed heartily and enfolded her in a tight embrace. "I promise not to be impossible . . . if you promise not to be a shrew."

Gabriella closed her eyes and her arms found its way around his shoulders to reciprocate the embrace. She tucked her face in the crook of his neck then said, "I promise."

"So does this mean you take me again as your husband? Outside of the five year agreement?"

Wearing a wet and skimpy swimsuit, cradled in Troy's arms who donned his board shorts and sitting on a plain white chaise inside a less than elegant pool area, Gabriella recited the same words she said to him during their wedding.

"I do."

But this time . . . she didn't force herself to say it.

* * *

A/N: I just finished this today and decided to just post right away. No time to edit so I'm sure there are some errors. Sorry. And thanks for the reviews!


	19. Chapter 19 Stirrings

Chapter 19

_**Disclaimer:** Disney owns HSM, the plot and all its characters._

* * *

_After several attempts at knocking and probably even pounding the base of her fisted hands on the white wood bedroom door, she finally stopped. And next he heard a faint thud on the door which means she leaned against it or she was lightly banging her forehead on the smooth wood._

_She can do whatever she wants, for as long as she likes, but he swore to himself he will not dignify her efforts with a response. There was nothing to say. He had nothing to say and as of this time, he has no desire to see her face or hear what she intends to make him understand._

"_I deserve your hatred . . . I deserve every bit of anger you're feeling right now but please hear me out . . ." She was begging. And normally his heart would tug at the sound of her pleading but not today. _

_Anger surfaced foremost than any other feeling. It was anger for being made to look pathetic—waiting for her to arrive, longing to see her again and bursting with excitement for their future which he was so certain would begin tonight the moment she says yes—and it was anger because he was suddenly thrust into a position of a what can be called as 'cuckolded'._

_How could she have done this to him? When just yesterday while they talked on the phone, she sounded so animated like she couldn't wait to fly back and see him and she even has no qualms about saying I love you to him. Didn't that mean anything? Just say I love you for the heck of it?_

_If the sight of the ring on her finger startled and shocked him earlier then made him livid . . . now, five hours later after fleeing from the airport in an angry daze, locked in his room with every memento that reminded him of her thrown all over the floor, he felt as if a strong hand is wrenching his heart in the most painful way possible._

_Would a patient under going a heart operation while he's wide awake be in the same degree of the pain he was feeling right now? He doubts it. But it doesn't make his pain any less excruciating._

_He felt stupid, gullible—a complete and utter fool for believing in love. For believing she's still in love._

_Needing to release his riotous emotions, he grabbed the picture frame on the bedside table of a close up shot of their happy faces pressed cheek to cheek, giving it a look filled with pain and resentment before he hurled it toward the closed door. The wood frame and the glass covering shattered as it hit the door and the broken pieces landed a little ways from the door._

_The loud crashing sound made her resume knocking. "Please let me in, Troy."_

_He continued to ignore her. He had to._

_What did he do wrong? As far as he knew, they were fine. Nothing happened between the last time they got together to this day that would suggest otherwise. Sure, they hated the distance but there was only one more year to go then they'll be living together as originally planned. _

_It was a plan they both agreed on. He didn't force the idea on her—in fact it was her suggestion. Couldn't she wait for another year more? _

_But if she engaged herself to another man, that means she had been cheating on him for—he has no idea how long exactly but it must be going on for awhile now for her to accept such proposal. Because no guy in their right mind would propose to a girl he had just met._

_The pain in his heart just doubled._

_Her voice drifted through the closed door. "Troy . . . I want to explain. Please . . ." He remained seated on the bed, staring at the door but seeing nothing, his back stiff, his hands were clenched into fists and his jaw taut. _

"_Julie, what's going on?" It was his mother's voice. "Troy! Open the door." Like any mother who suddenly finds his son's girlfriend of four years banging against her son's door and looking distraught, she was very confused and very worried._

"_I want to explain to Troy, Alicia. I owe him that...but he—" _

"_But he doesn't want to talk to you! You bi—"_

"_Chad!" Alicia Bolton exclaimed in shock at the sudden appearance of Chad and the unexpected anger evident in his tone and facial expression as he marched straight at Julie. She intercepted Chad before he could step any closer to his son's girlfriend and do something he would regret later on. She grabbed his arm and dragged him backwards. "I will not allow any vulgarity or violence in my house, Chad, so calm down and start explaining what's happening here!"_

_Chad shook his head, his body slowly going pliant as he leaned on the wall Alicia pushed him against. Apart from looking like he just got spit out by a hurricane, he also looked disheartened but the anger in his eyes directed at his best friend's girlfriend never waned one bit. "You couldn't have chosen a better time."_

"_I'm sorry . . ."_

"_Sorry for what?! For being a two timing bitch?!" _

_Alicia gasped next to Chad letting the profane word pass to look at the girl by the door in disbelief. But she withheld judgment since the facts are still not clear._

"_He was gonna ask you tonight!" Chad's laugh was edged with ire, incredulity and disappointment. "But I guess the other guy was quicker and you are a fucking good actress Miss Julie Landis."_

_When Alicia spoke again, she was no longer worried. The hand that was restraining Chad slipped off as she walked closer to the girl her son loves. She didn't look distraught to her anymore. "Julie, you should go. I don't think Troy wants to hear what you will say right now."_

"_Please . . ." Julie implored even as she sees it will be in vain. "I take blame for—"_

"_I'm glad to hear that." Alicia disrupted tersely. "Now leave or . . ."_

"_Or I will make you leave." Chad rejoined. "And trust me, Landis, I'm not the gentle type."_

* * *

Gabriella strode inside the bathroom snug in a bathrobe three sizes too big, over her underwear set. She unwound the towel wrapping her hair and ran her fingers through the damp curls, untangling the tips. Troy was also inside the spacious bathroom having just finished his shower and was standing in front of the sink with half his face covered in shaving cream and a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. He held the razor in one hand and the other wiped the steam off the mirror.

While she tossed the towel on its rack, she turned her head to look at Troy but found he was already looking at her. They smiled and locked eyes through the mirror.

After the talk yesterday about their married status, they didn't go back in the pool to swim. Instead, they opted to spend the rest of the day outside—in the cozy rooftop garden of Reiss Corporation, as Troy suggested, for a picnic. It was as enjoyable as it was a peaceful time together, eating Mrs. Lewis' prepared foods, talking, fooling around like kids and cuddling to no end. Then later on Troy let himself be dragged in the mall when Sharpay called and asked her to come shopping. He dutifully went with them, going in and out of several stores and even carrying the numerous shopping bags—mostly Sharpay's—without complaint.

The display of gallantry didn't go unnoticed by Sharpay and she was surprised as much as she was curious of the reason behind such behavior.

"_Do you take drugs on occasion?" She inquired out of the blue, eyeing Troy peculiarly from head to toe before browsing through a rack full of women's clothing._

"_No." He replied casting Sharpay a look that clearly says 'you-are-crazy'._

"_On medication for some illness?"_

"_Neither."_

"_Are you sick or something?" _

"_I feel great actually. What's with the neurotic questions?"_

"_Ehh . . . because we've been shopping for hours and I'm still waiting to hear you complain."_

"_And your point is?"_

"_You're a guy. We're shopping—it's a well known fact in the universe that male and shopping don't go together."_

_Troy smirked. "Gabi loves to shop."_

"_Which means—what?"_

_The befuddlement in Sharpay's face was only answered by a mysterious grin before he walked past her and went into one of the fitting rooms where Gabriella was._

And when they parted ways with Sharpay and went back to the mansion, they had an intimate dinner before retiring to his room. But contrary to what the rest of the household assumed they would do inside the room, they enjoyed their alone time cuddled together, watching a marathon of movies until sleep overcame their senses.

Gabriella was actually glad that last night Troy didn't incline to having sex with her (_although, there were several times when the kissing became quite intense but before it got out of his control he would stop._) as some sort of celebration for another leap into their relationship as a married couple. The picnic and even his patience to tag along while they shopped, for her, was a better way to instigate the permanence of their status because he proved yet again that she's more than just a sexual conquest and that his desire to extend their agreement past five years is based on genuine liking for her and the companionship they have.

It was her reason for agreeing to stay married to him past five years. And just knowing that he's on the same page as her, means that they're in this marriage now for the right reasons.

"Let me help you with that." She offered, moving between him and the sink and taking the razor from his hand.

He looked hesitant for a brief second before his hands gripped the curve of her waist and sat her up on the marble so that they were almost at eye level. "You've done this before?"

She nodded and used her other hand to even out the shaving lather he already has on his face.

"Who?" He asked not satisfied by a mere nod.

"My father."

"Which means that was a long time ago."

She frowned and tipped her head sideways noting he looked rather perturbed. "Yeaah." She said. "I'm pretty adept at this, Troy. Don't worry. Blood will not be shed."

"Okay . . . shave away." He breathed. But at the back of his mind he was remembering the last time a woman had helped shave his face. Julie cut his cheek then. He wasn't superstitious nor did he believe in signs but that instance was the last _couple thing_ they did before she came back and already engaged to another man.

Gabriella chuckled, resting her free hand on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze silently telling him to relax. "Who do you look like most? Your mom or dad?" She conversationally said to divert his thoughts as she stroked the razor up his neck.

"Both . . . I think." He replied, very much conscious of the sharp blade grazing against his skin. He was almost sure the next glide of the razor will cut him but he tried his best to talk with her so that she won't notice his unease. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, intent on the task she was doing. "Nothing really . . . just curious where the good looks come from."

The reason for his apprehension steadily ebbed as a slow smile of pleasure worked its way across his face at the nonchalant way she had complimented his face. "Is that one way of telling me you find me handsome?"

She stopped, straightened and gazed at him as if she was making up her mind whether or not she meant it as an accolade. "I guess so—yes." Then she went back to shaving his face. "It's kinda hard to miss your good looks, Troy. Even Sharpay acknowledges you're handsome."

"Now that's something I don't hear everyday." Troy chuckled as he inspected Gabriella's lovely image so close to his face and it occurred to him she really is adroit with the razor like she claims. He relaxed under her ministrations. "You know, I will never get how you are friends with her."

She rinsed his face with a wet face towel and smiled. "Sharpay maybe a little flamboyant most times but she's a great person and a wonderful friend. She's been my savior during those awkward high school days—making me look less nerdy, setting me up on dates and defending me from bullies, along with Paolo of course."

"Paolo?"

Finishing up, Gabriella dabbed his face with a dry towel suddenly realizing, with all the issues she's had to deal with concerning their relationship and to add to that, the trouble with Marissa and maybe because it never really came up at any time whenever they're together, that she still hasn't told Troy about the other person she and Sharpay grew up with.

She adjusted her butt on the marble and laid the towel aside. "Remember the night of our wedding, when you assumed I was with another guy in the room . . ." She haltingly replied. "That was Paolo."

Troy's expression didn't change but the amiability in his clear blue eyes had already disappeared. "Yes, I remember that." But more than recalling, that night was quite hard to forget. "Who is he?"

"He's my brother."

This time his brows met. "You're an only child."

"I am." While Troy looked like he was still absorbing the piece of information she relayed, Gabriella prodded on, "Paolo's mom is my mother's distant relative. She . . . left him with my parents and never came back. He was still a baby so my parents decided to, in a way, adopt him before I was even born. It wasn't a legal adoption that's why his last name is Steggheri from his mother's Italian name. But I grew up treating him like a brother."

She bit her lip anxiously and tried to gauge his reaction. "You're mad at me for not telling you sooner." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"No." He said, unsure how he's suppose to take in the clarification of Paolo's persona in relation to Gabriella when all he could remember of the guy was, he's inside the honeymoon suite with his bride and he was the reason for the rage he felt at that time. "Where is he now?"

"I honestly don't know." She placed her hands on his arms that rested idly on her robe covered thigh, her fingers unconsciously playing with the nerve endings of his inner elbows. "He works for UNICEF so most of the time he's in the remotest, most deprived places on the map."

"I see." He murmured. He didn't know yet what to make of Gabriella's _adopted brother_ whose Italian and even works for the betterment of children's lives all over the world. But what he's sure of is feeling relieved Paolo Steggheri is only a brother.

"You don't look okay to hear this."

He smiled at her worried face and circled his arms on her waist. "I'm just surprised and curious about him. I mean, he's your brother." He stated before another thought came to mind. "Did he attend our wedding?"

"No . . . Marissa didn't want him invited and I was too upset then that I didn't really care who attended the wedding."

"But he was there—you were talking to him that night."

"Sharpay. She called him. I'm glad she did. He came in very late that's why he went straight to the room to see me."

Troy slowly nodded. It seemed to him that Gabriella and Sharpay have such a high regard for this Paolo. It wasn't a big deal to him since it appears they all grew up together. However—he doesn't know why exactly—he has to admit knowing about Paolo bothers him somehow.

Gabriella tipped her head, considered his silence for a moment then gave him a tiny smile as if to apologize for not telling him about Paolo sooner. "You will meet him when he comes—I don't know when that is coz he has a habit of just popping up when we least expect him." She said with certainty.

"I look forward to that day then."

This time when she smiled, it was radiant and her eyes regained the entrancing glow it had earlier. "Thank you." She whispered, leaning close to him to plant a kiss on his newly shaven jaw.

Troy turned his face so that her lips landed on his lips, settling his mouth quickly over hers, his hands sliding up her back. The pressure of his mouth increased as his hand went up further and curved around her nape, fingers tangling into her damp hair. She readily responded, opening her mouth to his questing tongue and drawing his upper body closer to hers.

When he pulled back, there was a glimmer of mischief and glee in his eyes. "I don't feel like going to work today."

She knows where he's getting at and frankly, she didn't want to go to the studio either. She pulled on a shocked expression but jokingly uttered, "You need to work to feed your wife!"

Her jest was so outrageous that Troy felt double urges to kiss her again and laugh. So he did both before saying, "You sound like you're already a pregnant wife!"

As she laughed along with him, the oversized robe slipped off her shoulder, exposing the tan skin. She pulled it back in place but Troy stopped her by restraining her hand and kissing the bare skin. "I just realized I don't know how to be a wife." She retorted as though it was a belated realization, her arms looped around his neck in silent urging to his pleasurable kisses.

"You're doing just fine." He mumbled in between light nips on her shoulder while one hand blindly found the knot of her robe and was slowly pulling to untie it.

"How do you know this—have you had a wife before?"

Smirking against her smooth skin, he countered her query with a question of his own. "How do you know you're not doing fine as a wife—have you been one before?"

She seemed to give it some thought before capitulating. "Okay, you win. Point taken."

"I have no idea how be a husband either."

"Don't worry . . . you're doing just fine."

Unable to suppress a grin, he went back to grazing his lips on her inviting skin and parting the opening of her robe to expose the rest of her. His lips and the shivers of delight it brought up her spine kept her occupied that it barely registered on Gabriella that Troy was already carrying her out of the bathroom to their unmade bed.

Except he didn't take her to the bed as she thought.

He gently placed her on top of his desk which was closer to the bathroom than their bed. Then, he divested the towel off her arms, unhooked her bra and she was swiftly rid of her thong and then the towel secured around Troy's waist fell next to it on the floor.

The dark stormy hue of his eyes was proof of the primitive yearning coursing through his veins. Keeping her gaze locked to her eyes who mirrored the same wanton desires he was feeling, Troy parted her legs and fingers plunged into her wet womanly folds. She cried out and braced her hands on the desk behind her.

He found her center and stroked, stroked with increasing purpose and speed. "Let it go, Gabi." He said, loving the sight of her completely naked and writhing in desire because of him.

"I—please—it's lonely this way, Troy." She panted urgently but with a note of frustration even as she was arching her hips against his hand. "I want you inside . . . me."

His eyes darkened even more until they looked almost black. And in answer to her plea, he ceased the assault of his fingers and roughly pulled her hips closer to the edge of the desk bunching the robe underneath her bare buttocks. He bent his head and his mouth quickly latched on her nipple, suckling on it, tightening inexorably and increasing the drawing pressure until piercing stabs of lust were zing-zinging through her entire body.

One of her braced hands lifted from the desk and held the back of his head, fingers tangling through the soft hair as she pressed his face closer to her breast—until she felt him grip hard on her hips and suddenly entered her with a quick, hard thrust. She moaned loudly at the rush of pleasure and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist pushing his rigid erection deeper.

But he remained steady, unmoving while completely embedded in her. "I can't get enough of you." He said hoarsely before he circled his hips against her in a slow and gentle grinding rhythm that made Gabriella frantic with need. "Even when you're this close to me . . . this exposed . . ."

"No—" She groaned, jerking her hips to let him know how she wants the pace. But he clamped his arms around her lower back to stop her from moving and continued to deliberately torture her with his languid grinding. "Troy—I can't stand this!"

Ignoring the pulsating ache of his shaft, he pressed his face next to her ears and whispered, "I cannot touch you enough to satisfy my craving for you . . ."

"Ohh Troy . . ." The raspy sweetness of his words added more to Gabriella's throbbing need and when his lips descended to her neck, biting the particular spot that drove her crazy, her eyes closed, she threw her head back and arched her body even more. "Stop . . . teas—"

He smothered the rest of her words when in one smooth motion he lifted his head from her neck and kissed her lips with raw hunger. "I want you." He whispered again, his delicious lips moving back and forth on hers. "I need you."

Gabriella's heart involuntarily leapt from the slow gyrating heat of his penis and the erotic but engaging words that were spilling from his mouth. It made her dizzy with wanting and elated with pleasure other than the physical. She forced her eyes open to gaze at Troy. His face so handsome, so seductive as it was hard and dark with passion and she felt the tense muscles on his shoulders and arms brought on by the strain of holding back on his body's rampant desire.

With absolute gentleness, she touched her palms to his cheek, and murmured throatily, "I need you too." Despite the cloud of lust, she knows her need for him goes beyond what she originally intended. It goes beyond being a guarantee to get her inheritance. But in part, it was also a physical need, especially at this particular second. "Troy . . . right now, please . . ."

A low groan erupted from his chest a split second before she felt him push roughly into her, withdraw almost all the way only to plunge back higher, deeper, wider. It was forceful, erotic and amazing all at the same time that Gabriella lost her thoughts the moment it began. The sudden change from stillness to uncontrollable thrusting wrung a moan of pure pleasure from her. She let her emotions and desires take over—reaching for him, kissing him, tightly clinging to his sinewy shoulders and offering herself back to him.

With each enormous lunge, tension built within her. His deep strokes increased steadily and Gabriella was almost certain Troy was atoning for teasing her minutes ago by making sure she reaches an amazing explosion of ecstasy.

Streaks of white hot pleasure began rippling through her coming in faster and faster each time. With hazy eyes, they watched each others face, their frantic gasps in tune with the movements of their lower bodies and a short while later . . . the violence of their release exploded a second after the other. It tore a scream from Gabriella's throat that was quickly muffled by Troy's mouth kissing her desperately before he pushed into her one last time and joined her in sweet rapture.

As tension gradually left their sweaty bodies, they remained on the desk wrapped in a tender embrace, still intimately joined . . . foreheads resting against the other, breathing labored, bodies limp but wonderfully sated.

When Troy's intake of air finally evened out, he kissed her swollen lips once and traced the graceful curve of her cheek. "I still can't believe you're mine." He huskily declared. "But I'm so glad that you are."

* * *

"Reserve a table for four people."

"Yes, Mr. Bolton."

"Direct Ms. Evans and Chad to that table when they arrive."

"Uhh . . . of course Mr. Bolton but . . ."

"Michael, where's that noise coming from?" Troy asked the maitre d' of Sparks when he entered the dining area from the back door that led to his office and heard the sound of raised voices coming from somewhere in the restaurant that seemed like two people—male and female—arguing.

Michael, usually composed, calm and collected as his job dictates, looked at Troy with anxiousness and apology before answering. "The booth at the left most corner, Mr. Bolton."

It was one of the best tables in the restaurant because it's partially hidden from the rest of the tables therefore offered much privacy to guests who need them. Usually celebrities or some people who do not wish to be seen with a certain companion reserve that table. "Who are they?" Troy asked then quickly changed his mind seeing the rest of the afternoon diners were being disrupted by the noise. "I take that back—I don't care who they are. If they don't stop tell them we'll be forced to make them leave."

"Yes, Mr. Bolton." Michael concurred but cautiously added, "Err . . . but I think you should know, Sir, it's your good friend Mr. Danforth and your wife's friend Ms. Evans who are seated at that table."

Troy paused and his forehead creased with a bit of surprise. "How long?" He asked.

"Ms. Evans arrived five minutes before Mr. Danforth."

"How long have they been arguing?"

Michael checked his wrist watch before replying. "Ten minutes as we speak."

Heaving an annoyed breath, Troy dismissed Michael and turned in the direction of the table. As he came nearer, the indiscernible words were gradually beginning to become clear and by the time he reached the two he had a pretty good idea what the dispute was about.

"I saved your helpless ass that night!" Sharpay clamored, her face flushed with ire and her hands were braced at the table that separated her from Chad. "And this is the gratitude I get?! You really are an ass!"

"Tammy—Sarah, fuck, whatever her name is, told me she put the drugs on the drink she thought I ordered for you!" Chad countered in his own indignant voice. "Technically, it's your fault why I got drugged. You owe me more than I owe you."

"I don't know why the fuck you even think that girl—whom you cant even remember the name—has a drop of useful intelligence in her brain!"

"She told me herself last night!"

"After you fucked her brains out, no doubt, and for lack of witty conversation she confessed her idiotic attempt at drugging you by saying it was really me she's after! You're the one who told her to go, not me!"

"But you're the reason why I told her to leave us! You insisted on seeing me, asked people of my whereabouts that day—which, by the way, is fucking unusual for you so naturally I think, you have something important to tell me!"

"Oh will you shut the hell up! We've been over this three times already! She's your date—whether or not I influenced your decision, you still had the last say!"

Troy moved closer, feeling the unpleasant air between the two. He stood adjacent to the table and deliberately cleared his throat to get their attention. To his surprise, it worked. Sharpay swung her fired up gaze first followed by Chad's disgusted ones.

"I hate to interrupt but loud disputes like what you two are having right now is not good for business." He reminded in a businesslike manner.

"Where's Gabriella?" Sharpay demanded. "She arranges this little get together without telling me why and she's not with you! I'd rather eat live cockroaches than spend my time with you two."

The good mood he was riding on since this morning kept him from rising to the blond girl's pointed insult. Troy merely grinned at her as he slipped next to Chad and coolly said, "She's at back in my office. She had to talk to Kate about some photos. She'll join us a while."

Sharpay eyed him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. She was expecting a verbal backlash from him but he seems to be enveloped in a cloud of unnatural joy that if he suddenly breaks out into song and dance to express how happy he is, it wouldn't come as a shocker anymore.

"You're entirely too—smiley." She said.

Chad had the same observation and he voiced it out as well. "Yeah." It was the very first thing they agreed on since arriving at Sparks. "Did you just fuck in your office?"

"I'm glad I can make you two agree on something." Troy joked.

"I would say disgusting but then that's like insulting my best friend too." Sharpay enunciated, her face contorted in a grimace. She seemed to have forgotten the raging argument she was having with Chad. "Word of advice, Bolton; consider a break once in a while. At the rate you're going, the pill she's taking might lose its affectivity."

"It pains me to say this…but she has a point." Chad concurred.

Again, instead of being irritated, Troy reacted by laughing affably. "So what if it doesn't take effect? Then she gets pregnant. But for your information, we did not _fuck_ in my office."

Chad grabbed Troy's shoulder all of a sudden to better see his smiling countenance. "Damn! You finally did it?"

Sharpay was slightly more violent than Chad. She jumped off her seat, glared menacingly and wagged a finger with its glittery pink polished nail at Troy. "Sex is obviously not a new experience for you, Bolton, but it is for Gabriella. The allure of sex for her does not include getting pregnant—not at this time and certainly not with you!"

"Why not with me? I'm her husband."

"Temporary husband." Sharpay corrected scathingly.

The smirk that was ever present on Troy's lips widened into a genial smile. He leaned back on the booth, crossed his arms over his chest and patiently waited for Sharpay to sit down again before saying, "Not anymore."

"Wise move, man!" Chad patted him on the back, visibly pleased by his best friend's decision.

To Troy's surprise, Sharpay sat speechless for several minutes. It was the first time he's ever seen the blond run out of words spilling from her mouth that if he didn't know any better, he'd think she's having an internal seizure.

When she finally conjured something to say, she came off surprisingly calm. "Is that the reason for this get together? Telling us that you're in this marriage for good?"

"Yes."

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday."

Sharpay carefully slid from the booth. "Did you say Gabriella is in your office?"

"Yes . . . why?"

She grabbed her bag and announced, "I'm going to have a _talk_ with for not telling me about this yesterday!"

Troy stood up quickly to catch up with her, seeing the ire in her eyes. "Sharpay...don't flip out. We both agreed to tell you and Chad at the same time."

She stopped, whirled around and said, "Don't worry, Bolton, I will murder you next."

* * *

A/N: Wow! The reviews are amazing! I love you all! Thank you so so much. I'm not quite sure about this chapter though. It took me longer than usual writing this because of many distractions. My mind is occupied with work and other stuff that is related to work. It crazy! So i don't know . . . you be the judge. :D I have to mention **_Ashlynxo(from ZAAngels-big thanks to you all!), sunnycouger, zanessa4ever719, canada4ever, emmalouise, liv3.in.lov3(i'm not too keen on the time frame but its roughly 9 months or to be exact 8 mos and 1 week. lol) & Dee31._ **I'm sure I forgot some names...sorry about that but I'm writing this from memory since I'm in a rush. Thanks again guys!


	20. Chapter 20 Ours

Chapter 20

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything . . . _

* * *

When Troy said they were going away for the weekend, she did not expect to travel approximately 672 miles by air and find herself in Albuquerque walking through the foyer of the stately Bolton home, greeted by his relatives who were temporarily rendered speechless upon seeing them.

The same worried feelings she felt when Patrick Reiss came to the mansion are interplaying inside her, only this time it's not for the same reasons. She's part of this family now. No longer temporary. But it was like meeting for the first time … because in a way she is. In Italy, the faces in attendance, whether family or friends, were all a blur to her.

That's why she feels like an ice cream melting under the heat of the sun due to the assessing stares directed her way.

And her husband, who's responsible for this surprise vacation, for some reason, is mentally unable to help with her predicament.

Gabriella glanced anxiously at Troy, who looked completely unaware of her panic and disorientation. In fact, he seem to have his mind wandering to another matter outside of the huge living room they were currently seated in along with eight other people who are looking at Gabriella with obvious scrutiny.

Amused scrutiny but scrutiny nonetheless. Like a panel of judges—and she's the talentless contestant desperate for a positive remark.

Even the little girl, hovering in front of her, with doe-like eyes, curly locks tucked neatly under a red headband with an intricate ribbon design on one side and a colorful dress to match—she looks like a doll in her opinion—was subjecting Gabriella with curious observation.

Under the guise of a tremulous smile, she carefully expelled a nervous breath and imperceptibly squeezed Troy's hand that was laced with her own to snap him out of his reverie. He did come out of it, but it was because his phone vibrated in his pants pocket. He apologized for the call, excused himself and let go of Gabriella's hand as he stood up to leave the room.

_Don't leave!_ Her mind screamed at Troy's retreating back. _I'm only good with families when they want a photo taken! _

_Think happy thoughts . . ._

_All things nice . . ._

Conspicuously alone, she was very much tempted to follow Troy outside but instead she drew on courage she didn't know she had and lifted her eyes—which she's trying hard not to show the uneasiness in them—to the other occupants in the room.

Gabriella let her eyes stray to the people staring at her, landing first on Jack Bolton with his serious face and unwavering gaze looked like he was weighing down the merits of throwing her for the guillotine. She quickly shook off the gory idea and gazed at Troy's uncle, Ted, who is Jack's brother. He had a less somber face but like his wife Anne who sat next to him, he looked expressionless that she didn't know what to make of him.

The two teenagers in the room, Ted's children, Chloe and Nate, were looking at Gabriella with curious eyes. They seemed to be noting everything about her from head to toe, trying to spot any flaw they could find. She was suddenly worried about her clothes— tight jeans and an off white vintage blouse—not at all presentable for meeting with families but again it was Troy's fault. He didn't tell her.

_Damn that man! What's taking him so long?!_

Then there was Adam, Troy's cousin from his father's side of the family, who looked about a few years younger than Troy and was regarding her passively like he was bored out of his skull, wanting to be anywhere but here.

Trying not to squirm as much, she opted to meet Alicia's gaze since her smiling face, that's unbelievably stunning for someone her age, looked more welcoming than the rest of the group even if her eyes watched her with veiled puzzlement.

While the little girl, Stella, padded away to sit next to Adam, Gabriella fervently wished for Patrick to appear from the door and dispel the uncomfortable silence that has been looming over them with his outrageous remarks. But that wish is as impossible as her husband finishing the call soon. She has to fend for herself.

And she has to say something—that much she knew—they were expecting her to talk first that's why they are keeping silent and amusing themselves by staring at her. _What will she say?_ The introductions were made by Troy when they arrived a few minutes ago. She's a bundle of nerves and if this keeps up, she's certain she will swoon or worse, throw up in front of them.

Definitely not a pretty sight and not one to gain a good impression from the people considered family by Troy . . . which technically is her family too.

As if the older woman sensed her uncertainty, Alicia softly cleared her throat and spoke pleasantly, "You look even more beautiful than the last I saw you, Gabriella."

She blushed instantly at the compliment but a grateful smile showed on her face for the thoughtful gesture of her mother-in-law. "T-thank you, Mrs. Bolton." She stammered after swallowing past the lump in her throat. Then she realized that if she just ended it at that, the uneasy silence beforehand will settle on them again. Keeping a smile plastered to her face, Gabriella thought of something witty to say and in her mental frenzy she said the only thought that popped to mind. "There are eight of you."

The blond girl, Chloe, seated on the armrest of the couch gawked at the comment before she erupted in giggles which earned her a censorious glance from his parents.

Inwardly groaning and mentally strangling her herself for the stupid comment, Gabriella bit her lip and lowered her gaze. _Great! Now they know I can count._ _The ground should open and swallow her whole!_ That would be easier for all, her especially.

But Chloe stood from the armrest, strode over to one of the single couch chairs closest to Gabriella and amended, "Sorry."

"No. I'm sorry. That was a pretty lame of me." She said, dismissing the young girl's apology with a shy smile. "I—this is my first time—" She nervously played with her hands trying to think of an appropriate word to explain her quailing emotions. "To meet, uhh—I think I should just have said something about the weather."

Chloe grinned. "Oh yeah, definitely. According to the guide book, the weather is always a good topic to start with."

"What guide book?" It was Jack who spoke next, asking the question Gabriella was about to say. He threw a skeptical glance at the girl who was his niece.

She gave him a disbelieving look as if such guide book is a matter of common knowledge and those who aren't familiar with it are considered dim-witted. "Guide Book for In-laws First Time to Meet the Parents and Other Relatives—that guidebook."

The room burst in unexpected laughter. And one way or another, it cleared the awkward air in the room including most of Gabriella's edginess. Troy also came back into the room when the laughs were already subsiding, sitting himself next to Gabriella and lacing their fingers again. "What's so funny?" He asked.

"Nothing you'd be interested in." Nate answered with a chuckle. "But I think we scared Gabriella by coming here in numbers."

"Oh god, yes!" Gabriella admitted on a nervous breath, her hands flying over her beating heart to which all of them found as another good source for laughter. Unbeknownst to Gabriella, her unaffected candor just won over the family's appreciation for her.

"Wait till you see the entire cavalry! It will be hard for you to remember names."

"Don't worry, Gabriella, they're harmless." Jack rejoined with assurance, leaning against the soft cushions and draping an arm over Alicia Bolton's shoulders, affectionately squeezing on it. "Patrick is the scary one."

"Dad, that's not exactly true." Troy objected, his eyes smiling into Gabriella's now less panicky ones. "Gabi will disagree with you on that."

"Really?"

"But he's scary!" Chloe insisted which was agreed on by her father. "He scares everyone here in Albuquerque."

"He's like a totem pole." Nate added.

"What?!" Chloe retorted, extracting a round pillow behind her and throwing it at her brother who easily caught it. "You're overflowing with stupidity."

"Totem poles recount clan lineages and notable events in history—Grandpa's wrinkles tells quite a story just like a totem pole."

Adam cast him a weird look then addressed Gabriella. "Believe me when I say, he's not the genius in the family."

Chloe rolled her eyes, reminding Gabriella of Sharpay. "Nate, did you fry your brain and serve it for breakfast? Your analogy is killing me—just zip it will you?"

"Guys. Not now." Anne scolded mildly.

"Whatever. Grandpa is scary."

Gabriella was giggling at their repartee, forgetting all about her anxiety over meeting them but her loyalty to Patrick made her speak out. "But—I think Grandpa is adorable." No doubt shocking everyone in the room, except Troy, but especially Alicia who knows how mulish and intimidating his father can be, more so now at his age than before.

"Told you." Troy snorted, grinning at his family and feeling inexplicably proud of his wife who, as his parents are slowly realizing, effortlessly got the stamp of approval from Patrick Reiss that others only wished they could have.

"First time I heard that." Ted murmured, shooting an amused look at Jack.

From her position in the couch, Alicia noted the warmth in his son's smile as he looked at Gabriella. She still couldn't believe what she's seeing but she will admit…she likes it very much.

Her father has been tight lipped about his stay with the newly married pair, saying nothing more than "It was okay." Or "I might visit them again." Leading to her assume, along with Jack, that Troy really did not exert any effort to make the marriage work—she couldn't blame him though. But when they arrived earlier, hand in hand, faces glowing with happiness and she even caught the brief yet affectionate kiss Troy pressed on Gabriella's temple, she was so surprised by the romantic air surrounding the two that she almost forgot how delighted she is to be visited by her elusive son and how pleased that she will finally get a chance to be better acquainted with her new daughter-in-law.

"As you can see, we're all surprised Gabriella." Anne said.

"Shocked is more like it." Jack revised if only to reinforce their claim about Patrick being scary—since he also agrees his father in law scared him years back and still does on occasion—but he was actually observing the same things about the pair that his wife was seeing.

While Chloe and Nate seem to have found something else to argue about both excusing themselves to wander off to another part of the house, Anne nodded at Jack but before she could say another word the familiar click of the cane echoed inside the living room quickly followed by Patrick's impatient voice, talking to a servant, " Where are they? Why didn't anybody tell me sooner? Stop pulling my arm! I can walk!"

Except for Adam and Stella who was busy combing her doll, everyone stood when Patrick entered the room. It was like welcoming the arrival of a king and giving respect to his position in the family. But while most where a bit tense, namely Jack, Ted and Anne, Gabriella, in a leap of joy at seeing the old guy again, moved away from Troy's side to meet Patrick halfway through the living room.

"Grandpa!" She greeted exuberantly, carefully throwing her arms around Patrick in a hug to which he returned without hesitation. "I missed you!"

"_This is real right?_" Anne whispered to Alicia, unable to believe the pleasant change in Patrick's demeanor at the sight of Gabriella and the affectionate way the two were exchanging greetings.

Alicia slowly nodded, stunned as the rest, then her face split into a delighted smile. "_We're not dreaming . . . but I can always pinch you if you like._"

Patrick laughed which seems to have a rusty quality to it probably from disuse and allowed Gabriella to lead him toward the couches where the rest were waiting for their chance to greet him. "I'm sure you didn't." He said with underlying humor. "You were busy. I can tell."

As Gabriella's cheeks flushed, Troy also strode over to his grandfather to join his wife in greeting him. "Yes, Grandpa, we were busy but we really did miss you."

Patrick pulled back slightly and noted Gabriella's face with a thoughtful frown. "He's treating you right?" He tipped his head in Troy's direction causing the younger man to shake his head.

Giggling, Gabriella leaned forward and whispered to Patrick while the rest of the people in the room watched in fascination. When she straightened, a smile slowly crept its way on the old guy's face that grew wider and more pleasant as the seconds ticked past, making him look several years younger.

He looked at Gabriella then at Troy who already had an arm slung over her shoulder before saying, "I have to say—I saw this coming."

"I'm sure." Troy mumbled, patting his grandfather's shoulder with fondness.

* * *

"Where are you going with that, Allie?" Rick, another one of Troy's cousins who arrived later that day, called out to his five year old daughter carrying a trolley full of sparkly clothes when she passed by the living room the men of the Bolton clan were gathered in.

Allie barely acknowledged his curious father as she rushed past with a short reply, "Upstairs." She cannot be bothered to say more.

Rick was about to inquire further but Allie's older cousin Gil was following in her wake with two armloads of umbrellas and he was ordering Allie to hurry up.

"Gil? What's with the umbrellas?" Brad, his eldest brother, was the next that got curious.

"We need it."

"For what?"

The third kid that passed, Stella's sister Skye, answered in behalf of Gil who completely ignored the question to concentrate on the umbrellas he was carrying. "Stuff." And for her part, Skye was dragging a large bag of colorful balls.

Adam looked up from the game he was playing to glance at the three younglings climbing up the stairs with all their _stuff _in tow. Then his vision swung over at Stella and Luke who helped carry drapes of fabric in yellow, red and pink.

"Something weird is going on in the room upstairs." Greg, yet another cousin of Troy, said which conveyed what the rest were thinking. "All the girls are up there."

"It must be quite a project." Brad said, craning his neck over the backrest of the settee he was seated on to see how the kids were progressing up the stairs.

"Must be." Rick agreed. "I heard Lily and Gabriella talking earlier about using the room to set up a backdrop."

"Backdrop?"

"Gabriella is a photographer, isn't she?" Greg asked as the kids disappeared from their sight.

They nodded then looked at Troy for confirmation but he merely sat there seemingly unaware of their curiosity with the children. "Hey Troy . . . Troy?"

"He spaced out again."

_She stared straight at him with her glacial eyes and asked, "What do I get in return?"_

"_In return for what?" He did not move from his position—arms extended on both sides of the door frame blocking the blond girl—by the exit of the dining area that led to his office._

"_For not murdering your dear Gabi." She derided using her well polished nails for air quotes on dear. "From the looks of it, you are determined to keep me away from your damsel who still doesn't know she's in distress."_

"Whatever is on his head must be damn engrossing." Brad said amusedly.

"_Come on Sharpay." He said in a diplomatic way, hoping to dissuade the girl of whatever she's conjuring inside her pretty blond head. "Can't you just let this pass? For Gabi? As a best friend?"_

_She made a show of trying to consider his suggestion then after a minute, gazed into his eyes again and declared firmly, "No. But I can be persuaded to play nice . . ."_

"_How much?" _

_She snorted a laugh. "I'm sure money isn't an issue for you, Bolton. And you know I'm not short of it either."_

"_So what will it take then?"_

"I don't think engrossing is the term." Rick countered observing Troy's not too pleased expression and the faraway look in his eyes.

_A sly smile appeared on her face that had Troy feeling a sense of foreboding. But he stayed quiet, letting Sharpay speak. "Tell me you'll agree then, I'll tell you what I want."_

"_What guarantee do I have that you won't blackmail me if I agree to your demand?"_

"_None."_

"_That's not good enough."_

"_It's all you're getting. You can keep me away now but there are other days." Sharpay stated but it sounded like a warning. "You're a busy man, Bolton. Can't always be the gallant knight for Gabriella."_

_His face tightened in annoyance but after giving it some thought, he yielded anyway. "Fine." He grumbled. "What do you want?"_

"Yeah." Greg agreed waving a hand to get Troy's attention. "He looks . . ."

_Sharpay's slim shoulders shook with mirth. It was the kind of laugh you'd expect to hear from someone who won and is having an enjoyable time flaunting that victory at the unfortunate loser—much to Troy's irritation._

"_Just say what you want!"_

_She composed herself and said, "There's a mini fashion show four weeks from now. The people who organize it are friends of ours from high school and college. And this is done yearly . . . it's_ tradition_." There was obvious emphasis on the word 'tradition'. "We all participate since it's the highlight of our yearly reunion and it's always a spectacular event plus the fact that it's for charity."_

_The blond managed to confuse him again. "That's it?" He asked then assumed she wanted a venue for the fashion show which he can provide easily. "You want a venue! I can offer—"_

_She raised a hand to stop him then continued on. "Not a venue. It's the participation."_

"_What?"_

"He looks pissed." Adam finished, resuming his game again.

"Do you think it's Gabriella?"

"I doubt it." Adam negated. "He's _different _with Gabriella. You should have seen them when they arrived. It was weird to see him being—I shudder to say this word but there's nothing else appropriate—_tender_."

"I don't blame him. She's hotness personified." That sort of remark earned Brad a good smack on the head from Greg and Rick. "Hey! I'm only stating a fact here."

"Jackass. He's not talking about that kind of tender you have in mind."

"_Gabriella will be modeling in the fashion show . . . she always does."_

_Troy sighed. If she could just do away with the dramatics and get to the point, time will not be wasted as much. "That's great to know Sharpay. I will watch any show Gabi is in. She'll be gorgeous on stage. But I still don't know what you want."_

"_So that means you consent to Gabriella modeling?"_

"_Yes . . . is that it? You're asking permission on Gabi's behalf?_

_She nodded with a knowing smile. "Yeah. Just so we're clear . . . you said yes already, didn't you?"_

_"Yeah. Gabi can model."_

_"Great!"_

_But something about her smile prompted Troy to ask, "What kind of fashion show will it be anyway?"_

"_Swim wears." She answered in a suddenly chipper mood and her face broke out into a huge grin when Troy realized what he just agreed to. His scowl was a definite delight for her. "She'll be modeling the skimpiest one—I'm sure you know what skimpy means. You used to live for skimpiness." She whirled around to walk back to the booth but midway through paused to add, "Oh and don't worry, Bolton, you have front row seat . . . along with the rest of the guys in attendance."_

"_What the fuck Sharpay! No way!" He followed her to the booth. "I wont let Gabi parade herself nearly naked!"_

_She wagged a finger to his face. "It's too late for that. A one piece suit won't do her body any justice. More skin is in. Besides, Gabriella is great at strutting her stuff on the catwalk and she likes doing it. You'll crush her heart if you won't allow her to model."_

"_Don't give me that drama bullshit, Evans!"_

_Chad looked up from the dish he was already eating when they sat down. "New quarrel." He mused noting Troy's irate expression. "Thanks man. I need a break from her."_

_Troy ignored him to reason with Sharpay. But she interrupted before he could launch into an argument. "She's modeling and that's it. Don't be such a freak of nature. The proceeds of the show will also go to charity. And Gabriella is not the only married female who's modeling a skimpy swim wear."_

"_I'd rather you rant on Gabi. I won't stop you." He waved an arm in the direction of his office. "And if it's for charity I will donate a sizable amount." _

_She smirked. "You know, I never took you for the possessive type but here you are acting like it."_

"_He isn't." Chad reinforced. "Gabriella seems to have sparked his sudden possessiveness."_

_Sharpay afforded Chad a brief glance and raised a dubious brow at Troy but her lips remained with a joyous smirk at his apparent annoyance for her. "Do you really think I would resort to murderous means on Gabriella over such a petty matter?"_

"_Knowing you? Yes!"_

"_For your information, I was only going to congratulate her. That's what best friends do when the other friend is happy. You overreacted." She pointed a finger at him. "So, Bolton, tell me . . . who's dramatic now?" _

"Troy looks like he wants to rearrange someone's face. Whoever that person is, has my pity."

Their little discussion was interrupted again when three of the women who are supposed to be in the room upstairs with the kids walked past them while carrying several clothes, hats and various accessories and were excitedly chattering with each other.

When they were ascending the stairs, Gabriella appeared next and she had with her a professional camera and a tripod confirming the men's assumption that a photo shoot will be happening upstairs. But unlike the other girls, she greeted all the guys with a pleasant smile and a quick wave of the hand before her vision swung over at Troy.

All the guys, except for Adam who was so much into the game he's playing, followed Gabriella's line of vision to see Troy had his mind back to the present and was looking back at his wife with an endearing grin on his lips—no traces of the annoyed expression earlier.

From where she stood, Gabriella looked smilingly at Troy as if to convey how she's enjoying her time with his family after the initial trepidation for this unexpected visit vanished and she was welcomed with open arms by every member of the Bolton clan.

She couldn't say much at the moment with all his cousins there swinging their amused gazes back and forth between her and Troy so instead, she slowly mouthed to him, _Thank you. _

Troy grinned even more, instantly forgetting about Sharpay's blackmailing four days ago then he mouthed back his response. _Thank me later._

She rolled her eyes but the smile shining on her face never diminished one bit. _Horny!_

He chuckled softly, his attention and vision focused solely on her, regardless of the none too discreet snickers from his cousins. _I am. _He affirmed without a second thought. Then he winked at her.

_Later. _She promised with a teasing glint in her eyes which had him grinning impishly. Then she ran toward the stairs to catch up with the other ladies.

The silent exchange was well viewed by his cousins and it didn't take long for them to start mocking the unusual display of affection by Troy. "Lily and I don't do that." Rick commented in an offhand manner.

"I don't talk to my girlfriend that way either." Brad added, plopping down next to Troy on the couch. "I'm not a sap."

"Shut up." Troy said, lightly punching Brad's arm. "Maybe you should try talking like that to your girlfriend so she won't throw things at you when you fight."

Brad gasped exaggeratedly. "I'm actually hearing relationship advice from you! When did you become an expert?"

"Can you blame Troy for being a sap?" Adam interjected, his attention still on the game. "Gabriella is one hot tamale."

"Adam, find your own girl."

"I have plenty—variety rocks."

* * *

He really is a sap.

He can't help it. Not when she's standing two paces from him, hair damp from her recent shower, her amazing body draped with a silk negligee that left little for the imagination, and she was talking animatedly about what she did with his family earlier. She was gorgeous like always and also glowing with enthusiasm, detailing to him what was done, said and played out that made her laugh.

It was a long account of how she spent her day, mentioning the names of his cousins, nieces and nephews like she knew them by heart already. She had enjoyed doing the improvised shoot with the girls and the kids. She joined in the turtle race Gil held in the mucky part of the playground—cheering her very own turtle she named _Slowly _and was a little disappointed that he was so slow he lost to Stella's turtle.

She also spent some time with his mother in the garden, getting better acquainted and taking pictures of her precious flowers. After that she went shopping with his female cousins for several hours only coming back in time for family dinner.

"You have a wonderful family, Troy." She said as she finished her story, her arms finally dropping to her sides.

He pushed off from the huge couch he was sitting on, stepped close to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "So this is a good surprise trip?"

She chuckled, leaned up slightly and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "When we arrived I wanted to strangle you but after everything that happened today, I'm glad you thought of this." She admitted running her fingers through his soft brown locks as her body molded against his. "I've never experienced being in a family this big."

"My family is your family too." He kissed her temple then slid down to nip her ear.

"It does work that way, doesn't it?"

She looked so surprised and yet so pleased by the thought that Troy could not stop the laugh from escaping his lips. "Yes, it does."

She giggled at her own reaction, leaning away from him and cupping a hand over his mouth to keep him from laughing further. "Don't laugh! You know what I mean."

He gently gripped her wrist to remove the hand that was covering his mouth. "Thankfully I do." Then he kissed the pretty pout off her lips.

She easily responded, snaking her arms around his neck to draw him close while he did the same pulling her by the waist. Lifting her up a little, he stepped backwards to the couch and then without breaking the kiss swiftly pushed her down on the sofa so that she lay under his weight.

When he lifted his mouth for air, Gabriella bracketed his jaw and whispered, "Thank you for giving me a new family."

The sincerity and joy in her tone made it seem like she just received the most wonderful gift in the world and in turn, he feels pleased with himself because he's the one who gave her that gift. "You're welcome."

She smiled that wonderful smile of hers and drew his face closer, pressing their foreheads against each other. She closed her eyes, sighing happily and gently nuzzled the tip of her nose on his. "They're wonderful, Troy." She said, referring to his huge family.

He tightened his embrace on her and quickly claimed her lips for a deep kiss that made her gasp with its intensity. "You . . . are . . . wonderful." He declared, punctuating every word with his searing brand of kiss. And she welcomed his sensuous mouth and tongue like always, responding to it with a passion that equaled his own.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I've been busy, busy, busy. Took me awhile to finish this chapter. Turns out, too much work in mind taps out my creative juices so yeah...I'll let you be the judge for this update. Anyway, thanks for the awesome reviews. It's always well appreciated. Thank you so so much!


	21. Chapter 21 Unspoken

Chapter 21

**A/N:** _Okay...here I go. I'm so incredibly sorry to my readers for the lack of updates. I've been hella busy with work and with many other personal stuff that finding time to sit down and write hasn't been easy. A lot of stuff have been popping up one after the other that the writing(especially this chapter) progressed at a snail's pace. I feel like I've been living under a rock for the past several weeks. My fangirling tendencies are only just beginning resurface. There are so many pictures! I have a lot of catching up to do with all the pictures, videos, news and all other goodies relating to HSM3 and of course to Zanessa . . . especially Zanessa! _

_Anyway, again I apologize...and also thank you for being so supportive of this story. It means a lot to me that you guys appreciate this little idea that I wrote. _

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own HSM or any of its awesome characters._

* * *

"The tea bush is pruned and harvested, and its height maintained at about three feet. This tea bush is the standard for most of today's tea cultivation due to its richer and fuller leaves."

He grunted in reaction, making her know he was still listening to her lecture about tea.

It was a Saturday and normally, they should be outside enjoying their time with his cousins and the rest of the Bolton clan, but no, they were currently inside the library, adjacent to Jack's home office, discussing about tea.

Gabriella was tasked to educate Troy on anything and everything about tea while Troy himself should listen and get everything in his head that's related to their subject of tea.

Why?

That's the part Troy hated because he had no say in the matter that his father and grandfather decided on early that morning while they were enjoying breakfast in the gardens.

"_Go to the farm on Monday, Troy. You have to see first hand how the processing works. And you need to meet all the people who work for you there."_ Jack had said, or more like ordered, in the midst of a happy conversation about non-consequential subjects that everyone on the table can give an opinion to.

At first, laughing at Adam's joking remark about a messed up Nursery Rhyme involving Little Red Ridinghood and a wolf, Troy thought he heard his father wrong or that whatever he's saying wasn't directed to him. But his grandfather seconded the spur of the moment decision. "_Stay for a week or longer than that. You have to make sure when you leave the farm you already know what there is to know about tea like it's the back of your hand."_

He objected of course. He doesn't want to go to the farm and spend more than a week there, waking and sleeping with thoughts of tea leaves—even if he knows his father's decision to send him off is for a very valid reason businesswise.

"_Dad." He groaned and replaced his knife on the table, loosing his appetite and the jovial mood he was riding on since yesterday. "I can't—" He slightly tipped his head in Gabriella direction who was seated to his left. "Not right now."_

"_I'm sorry, son." Jack sighed apologetically. He understood his son's reluctance to leave Gabriella but the decision for him to go to the farm is in the best interest of the business and with the upcoming opening of the new restaurant, it's a must for Troy to be well educated on the industry of tea. "But you have to. The people there should know you are interested to learn about what they do."_

"_Ask her to come with you." Patrick suddenly suggested. "Just be sure to learn about tea when you're there and not spend all your time exploring her anatomy."_

_Patrick received a mild reprimand from Alicia for the intrepid remark but Troy had already ignored them, turning his attention back to Gabriella who was having a lively chat with his other relatives while enjoying her breakfast of caramel waffles and fruits. He gently squeezed her hand that was resting on the table next to his to gain her notice and when she did, he whispered Patrick's suggestion to her ear._

_But to his disappointment, she couldn't come with him to the farm. She explained with the same regret he was feeling that she has prior commitments for the entire week she cannot back out of. Well, she can but she risks being sued for breach of contract._

So they ended up in the library. Gabriella had been talking tea for nearly an hour while Troy, every now and then, would ask questions about some points that aren't as clear. But it didn't really mean he was interested at the moment to know about tea.

"Soil and weather affect how the tea plant is grown, right?" He asked half heartedly, leaning against the backrest of the small sofa they were seated on and flipping through the glossy pages of the book that had pictures of tea leaves, tea farms, tea processing equipments and the like. He was just glad Gabriella is with him, next to him and her legs stretched out over his lap while sharing her knowledge on tea.

"Altitude is a factor as well." Gabriella informed sounding as bored as Troy was. She doesn't want him gone for a week. She'll miss him. "Some teas crave high mountains and cool mist, while others grow better in lower terrain. Most premium quality teas grow at higher elevations, where mountain mist and dew shield the plants from direct sunlight. This humidity helps protect the leaves during the cycle of each day, maintaining a temperature that allows the leaves and buds to develop and mature at a slower pace."

_God! One week—or more—that's too long. _Just the thought of the week to come without being able to see Troy is making her depressed. But what can she do. It's not as if Jack and Patrick want to separate them on purpose. They have a compelling reason behind the decision and having grown up in family where business is an integral part of daily life, she knows sacrifices should sometimes be made for the good of the business.

"What's the difference between loose leaf and tea bags?" He inquired still flipping pages to look at pictures while his free hand absentmindedly stroked her lower legs.

The nerd in her makes her answer most of his questions in an instant. Not once did she pause to think or consider what she will say. "Loose-leaf teas are usually made up of whole leaves or broken leaves, while tea bags are usually filled with fannings or dust. During processing, raw tea leaves are graded from best—the bud and the first two leaves of the shoot—to worst which are fannings. Many tea connoisseurs consider brewed whole-leaf tea the best tasting. A whole leaf does have more surface area for water to extract the flavor characteristics of the tea. On the other hand, tea bags made from fannings and dust doesn't have much surface area for this extraction."

Yet, even though he is amazed by her familiarity of tea, he cannot be bothered to appreciate it at the moment because he keeps thinking of the Monday to come when he would fly off to the farm without her.

"How about Orange Pekoe? I've been hearing it often when people are talking about tea. What is that exactly?" He will miss her. No doubt about it. But there is another feeling that's equally prevalent . . . it's the thought of being apart and not knowing what will happen while they're miles away from each other . . . like what had happened to him and Julie.

Much as he hated to think of Gabriella in that way, he can't seem to stop his mind from worrying about what lays ahead. Call it learning from past mistakes or whatever . . . but, married or not, he can no longer afford to be complacent or so assured that what he left with is the same when he comes back.

She shifted slightly, adjusting her hips a little to a more comfy position. Her interest on tea and its processing is slowly developing into hatred. "Many people think that it is a special kind of tea but the term Orange Pekoe is only a grading measurement of the tea leaves' size and condition."

He nodded slowly then closed his eyes, brows creasing while he massaged his forehead as if to remedy the onset of a headache. When he let up on the massage and opened his eyes, he snapped the book shut and carelessly tossed it to the floor next to the sofa.

Swinging his gaze over at Gabriella who remained unusually overcast as she rested the back of her head on the armrest of the sofa, Troy sighed heavily and gently pulled her up so that they were staring face to face and she straddled his lap.

"I don't want to leave." He quietly admitted, reinforcing the somber look on his handsome face.

"But you have to." She replied in the same soft voice, the sadness in her eyes matched his.

He shook his head, while his thumb brushed across her plump lower lip in a gentle but possessive caress before stroking up the angle of her cheekbone and then he rephrased his words. "I don't want to leave _you_."

That made her smile. It wasn't a big one but Troy could tell she was pleased to hear what he said. One hand reached up to cover his hand that was laid against her cheek and the other rested over his shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "I will miss you too." She averred softly.

With eyes that suddenly turned dark, he held her chin steady for his kiss. "I will miss your smile, your gorgeous face, your laugh, your company . . . I will miss you." He stated in a slow but firm and clear voice, letting her know how seriously she will be missed by him.

Gabriella's heart gave a lurch as she carefully observed his face. _Is that the look of a man in love?_ His face solemn, his eyes roaming the features of her face as though he was memorizing every line, every nuance she had and there was both awe and pleasure in the blue depths as he looks at her that could only be likened to someone who's in love.

But then, what does she even know of how a man in love would look? Nothing. There's no previous experience, past love or lover to base it on. Probably what she's seeing on Troy's face could be just what he says . . . the look of a man who will be missing his wife.

Yet, she hopes that somehow it's more than just missing her.

_I love you. _

She gasped faintly at the sudden thought in her head and her eyes widened a bit, which Troy merely took as a natural reaction to their closeness. _Oh my god! I love him. _

The past months, the events that took place between them, the progression of their relationship—from ignoring each other to being friends then to flirting and eventually to being like a real married couple—and the rollercoaster of emotions she felt during those times up until this moment flashed in her mind and she finally realized and accepted . . . she does . . . she fell.

She has fallen in love with her husband.

_Does he feel the same?_

Instead of going for her juicy lips, Troy brushed his lips against her temple first then he kissed across her forehead and down to her cheek then skimmed the delicate line of her jaw.

A muffled laugh escaped from her as she angled her head to give him better access to her neck. It was a laugh of both wonder and a giddy unexplained feeling in the pit of her stomach over the startling insight to what her heart has been trying to tell her for so long. "What?" Troy asked, pulling back a little, surprised by her reaction.

"If you want to let me know how much you'll miss me, better improve on your aim, Troy. My lips are still in the same place as before." She retorted, mildly joking. Her clear brown eyes looking at him with amusement and unknown to him, love.

His azure eyes registered some confusion before it was quickly replaced by a desiring look the same time as his mouth crashed down on her smiling ones, failing to notice the change in the way she was gazing at him. "You're trying to suggest something, Gabi." He said with a boyish smirk against her semi parted lips. "I can sense it. We can, you know. We're alone in a stuffy library."

She smiled into the kiss but deep inside she was wishing, hoping for a sign or anything at all to give her a clue as to what he may be feeling for her. "Don't we have to abide by your parent's rules? This is their house."

"On the contrary, they are quite lax when it comes to me and you." He's enjoying their teasing as much as the kissing itself. "We can do whatever we want . . . for as long . . . as we please."

Her hands glided up from his chest to go around his neck. "That's what . . . we did last night." She said, unconsciously pressing the lower part of her body against him.

"That was last night." Then, he kissed her hungrily, moving his mouth with urgency and fierceness to make her moan low in her throat and respond by kissing him back with equal passion.

He thrust his tongue inside the warm crevice of her mouth, retreating then plunging back in repeatedly until she felt delirious with desire at the suggestive rhythm. He smiled against her lips when her thighs that were straddling him instinctively tautened and her hips slowly moved in a grinding motion.

Of its own accord, his hands glided up her flat stomach, past her ribs to cup her breasts after easily unclasping the bra covering. His thumbs circling the hardened bud underneath the cotton dress, coming alive, thrilling and filling his hands with its fullness.

She moaned into the kiss that had become more insistent and deep. Her senses flooded with trembling sensations from both his tongue and the caress of his hands, she was dimly aware that Troy had shifted their position and she was now lying on the sofa with him hovering over her, never once breaking connection.

After a while, he forced his hand away from her tingling breasts, sliding it down the same way, curving tenderly around her tiny waist to press it up closer to the contour of his body then running the wide palms of his hands over her smooth back.

He lifted his mouth for much needed air after some time but his fingers did not let up with their caress. "Troy . . . someone might come . . ." She breathed the objection even as she made no move to pull or arrange her dress that was hiked up to her waist, exposing the lower length of her.

His lips silenced whatever she was about to say. Then he growled into the kiss, "They're all outside." He loves looking at her beautiful face, flushed with desire that he is the cause of. It gives him a sense of pride that he alone could make her tremble, make her respond without reservation and that this one special girl, who carries his name and who now means a great deal to him than when he married her, gave herself to no one but him.

A weak intake of breath reached Troy's ears and immediately his body tensed. He slowly lifted his mouth from Gabriella who looked like she also heard the sound coming from door of the library. Turning their heads in unison over at the source of the disturbance, Gabriella promptly blushed like pink roses abloom in spring while Troy cursed under his breath and murmured something like, "_Why the fuck does this always happen to us?_" before he pushed his body off of her and quickly pulled her up into a sitting position beside him.

Alicia stood there, her face looking somewhat contrite despite the pleased little smile that tugged on the corners of her lips. Jack, on the other hand, had a grave face and his arms were crossed over his chest as though he was displeased with what he saw them doing when Troy was supposed to be learning about tea.

Expecting a chastisement from Jack, Gabriella's head flew up to gaze at him when he said, "I was gonna tell you to take a break . . . but I can see you're already way ahead of me." Then, she noticed the almost imperceptible smirk on his lips, making avert her gaze once again and she blushed even more.

"Not to be strict or anything because you two are married and what you do together is perfectly normal for married couples," Alicia added looking from one to the other as they sat on the couch like teenagers waiting to be summoned in the principal's office. Gabriella appeared embarrassed while Troy was definitely not shy about scowling to show his irritation. "but there are kids in the house. It's best to keep things G-rated during the day."

"Thanks mom." Troy said, not bothering to temper the sarcasm in his voice. He stole a quick glance at Gabriella who also shot him a look and silently spoke with his eyes as if to say _do you still think my family is wonderful?_

* * *

"You have a stupid smirk on your face, honey." Alicia commented to her husband as she sat beside him on the rattan settee in the sunroom, looking toward the basketball court where Troy with his cousins and some of his high school friends are playing, while off at the side, the girls, including Gabriella who had her camera up, were cheering them on.

Without looking up from the newspaper he was supposedly reading, Jack uttered offhandedly, "You mean, same as the one you have on."

Swinging her gaze at Jack, she grinned broadly. "I can't help it!" She breathed on a delighted note. "What I'm feeling right now should have been the one I felt during their wedding." She waved a hand over at the court. "I'm excited, happy and very pleased with myself!"

Jack chuckled, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. He draped an arm on her shoulders and gazed at the court just as Troy made a perfect lay up followed by loud cheers. Then running across the court, he pointed at Gabriella and winked at her. The message was clear; the basket is for the lovely brunette. "It does make you feel not guilty anymore, doesn't it?"

Nodding in assent, Alicia continued smiling. Over at the court, the opposing team had called a time out and Troy took the chance to jog over to Gabriella, accepting the bottled water she offered to him. He took a swig then leaned forward to whisper something in her ear causing her to laugh. "She's marvelous, isn't she?"

"She's sweet, unselfconscious and refreshingly candid."

"And she makes our son happy."

"Apart from Patrick's approval, which by the way is quite a feat, the youngsters seem smitten with her and the rest has nothing but good words for her." The time out ended but before Troy went back to the court, he tucked the loose curls from Gabriella's bound hair. "I never thought I'd say this, but right now, seeing them like that, I'm glad we forced this marriage on him."

"Yeah." Alicia said, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled when Troy paused midway to the center of the court and trotted back to Gabriella to press a quick kiss on her lips. "They looked good during the wedding…but seeing them like that is so much better in my opinion."

"It could be passion . . . or more than that."

Alicia shifted on her side to better see Jack's face and more or less glean something from it that made him ask that question. Not that she doesn't hope for a fairytale sort of ending for Troy and Gabriella, but with the reality of how they got into the marriage, she just wants to keep things as real as they are and that includes dismissing the notion of love this early in their marriage. "What makes you say that?" She inquired. "Is there something you know that I don't?"

"Let's just say I overheard their conversation . . ."

"You eavesdropped?!" Alicia clamored, her face scandalized and she shot her husband a censorious look.

"I overheard." Jack corrected. "There's a difference, honey. They were talking in the halls and I heard them."

He earned an assessing look from his wife as if determining the truthfulness of his defense and after about a minute she decided he wasn't lying and went on to ask him, "What did you hear?"

Jack chuckled at the curiosity in her tone but stifled it when she frowned warningly at him. He covered the laugh with an intentional cough before saying, "It seems that our son isn't happy about a certain fashion show Gabriella will be participating in wearing only a skimpy swimsuit—his words, by the way, not mine—he admitted to her about feeling jealous knowing that the guys in attendance for the show will be ogling her—again his words—when she walks out the stage."

"What did Gabriella say?"

"She said no one will be interested in ogling her. It's the suit they will be looking at not her."

"And?"

"Troy said he's a guy. Being the case, he argued he knows what guys look at and that he's sure they will look at her not the suit."

"Then?"

"And that's all I heard."

Alicia became silent as if her mind was analyzing what Jack had overheard, trying to find hidden meanings, if there are any, but then she might have found a positive analysis after a moment when a slow grin crept over her lips and she said, "Jealousy is a good sign."

"A good sign for what?"

"For love."

Jack looked skeptical but a part of him wanted it to be true too. "Even though with Gabriella here, he still insists on sleeping in the guest room like every other time he comes home and is making no inclination to tell her where his real room is—for reasons that all but Gabriella is aware of—I also want to believe it, honey." He wants Troy to be happy. To move forward after the heart break with Julie. "I really hope so." And hopefully Gabriella will bring back more of the old Troy . . . like what he's seeing since they arrived.

* * *

Gabriella looked up at his handsome profile as she sat next to him in the entertainment room where every adult in the house were gathered to watch the movie Vantage Point. The guys obviously won over the girls choice of cheesy flicks on this one. She didn't really care what movie they play. She was just glad to be spending the hours with Troy and the entire family. She's so happy that she's almost afraid to trust the feeling.

Of its own accord, her hand moved imperceptibly to seek his. It was a tiny movement, one he might have missed since he looks fairly concentrated on the film playing on the wide screen. But as Gabriella glanced down at her hand, his hand slid into her seeking ones, covering it and strong fingers laced with hers.

Then while still focused on the movie, his thumb slowly rubbed the center of her palm, brushing left and right and in circular motions that caused an electrifying effect up Gabriella's arm, shooting straight to her spine and every nerve ending on her body.

It was probably an idle touch on his part but she couldn't stop her heart from fluttering at the caress or her body from melting in reaction to a simple stroke of a thumb. He's always had this effect on her senses but if before it was for physical reasons, this time it's her heart dictating her body to respond to his touch.

It's a natural reaction of a woman in love with her man.

While an explosion went off in the movie and Troy had stopped caressing her sensitive palm, Gabriella, out of curiosity, began to do the same to his palm. She lightly wrestled his hand so that the back of it rested on her lap and her hand was daintily on top still laced with his. She stroked her thumb just like he did with hers, concentrating more on their hands than the movie itself.

There was no apparent reaction from him. He still kept his vision focused on the movie, seemingly riveted by the scene playing before him. A little disappointed but unwilling to give up so easily, Gabriella untangled her hand from his loose grip and solicitously traced each of his long fingers from the tip to the vee in between, then following the intricate lines on his palm as if memorizing how they intersect on his palm.

_I love you, _she silently told him through her fingertips. _Do you love me too? _There were several instances between them especially in the way he related to her or in the way he would look at her or hold her and often during their intimate moments, she was almost certain that he does love her too.

Yet, even if actions may speak louder than words, it is open to several interpretations. She wants to hear the words. She needs to hear them.

Troy could not understand anything that was happening in the movie. He started out focused on the scene as the movie began. He even told himself to concentrate well on the film since he hasn't seen it before and the plot is somewhat twisted that the fun part is guessing how the different point of views correlate.

When Gabriella began to trace indistinct figures on his sensitized palm, he lost it. The insistent stroking slowly but surely heightened his senses to arousal so much so that he already feels uncomfortable sitting there along with his family who knows nothing of his inner battle to stay blasé.

But instead of stopping her, he welcomed her gentle stroking by opening his palm wider as if trying to maximize the pleasure she was unwittingly giving him.

Near the end of the movie, he gave up all pretense of being engrossed on the feature film. Never mind that he did not fully understand the story or appreciate it for what's its worth. He's more concerned with Gabriella and the stunning effect of her touch to his senses, making his nerve endings come alive.

He gazed at her bent head and tried to set aside the discomfort between his legs to concentrate on whatever figure she was repeatedly drawing on his open palm. There's a straight line first then two open circles facing each other and the last is somewhat like the bottom half of an oval.

Troy drew a ragged breath and closed his eyes. His body tensed but he fought against it so that Gabriella and the rest of his family won't notice anything different. His brain can't seem to picture her drawing nor figure out what it could mean or if it means anything at all. It was as if he could see the tip of her finger slowly tracing along the skin of his palm, brushing against it and sending a pleasurable sensation the longer she keeps on.

A part of that pleasure is knowing that she enjoys touching him even if it's just a simple stroking of the fingertips.

When he opened his eyes and expelled the breath he was holding, he realized the ending credits for the movie was rolling and Gabriella had stopped what she's doing to his hand to engage in a conversation with Lily, Rick and Brad.

Feeling somewhat foolish at his body's uncontrolled reaction by a mere touching of hands, Troy shifted slightly, draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her head close for him to whisper, "Please say you'll come with me to the farm."

She sighed and smiled sadly. _Please say you love me. "_I wish I could, Troy._"_

* * *


	22. Chapter 22 Home

Chapter 22

_**Disclaimer:** Don't own HSM or any of its characters. _

* * *

_Digging a hole and the walls are caving in  
Behind me air's getting thin but I'm trying  
I'm breathing in  
_

Great.

As if she weren't sad enough or miserable enough, the radio just had to play Joshua Radin's song The Fear You Won't Fall. What is up with that? Love the singer. Awesome voice, brilliant songs but at her current state of loneliness she wished they could just have chosen Ne-Yo's Closer.

Only four days but it feels like a month already. How does anyone go through everyday when they miss someone as bad as she's missing Troy? When initially she thought the frequency of his phone calls can tide her over until he comes back, now it isn't so much the case. She's giddy when he calls, delighted to hear all his stories about what he's learning in the farm so far and shares with his excitement over the new discoveries regarding tea, yet most times she's on tenterhooks to hear him say _Oh you know what, Gabi, I love you._ But all she gets is I miss you.

She would've been happy with that . . . but she's slowly discovering that when you find yourself deeply in love with someone, you can't help but hope the feeling is mutual.

Leaving Albuquerque on Sunday with happy farewells from the Bolton clan and Patrick himself, Gabriella's thoughts debated whether or not she should tell Troy her feelings and if she does, how to best confess the matter. A part of her is worried that he doesn't feel the same. It's a scary thought. That, although he seems to want her with him, it's still only because he simply cares and he enjoys the intimacy between them.

Or his mind is just too occupied with work and the new business that's why he hasn't had the chance to acknowledge or reevaluate what he's really feeling for her.

And here she goes again, giving an excuse for his lack of reaction . . . she does it time and again with probably all of her relationships whether friends or family.

She should really stop doing it.

_Come find me  
It hasn't felt like this before  
It hasn't felt like home before you  
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel  
This way  
_

During her second night alone in Troy's room, sprawled on his bed and staring at the ceiling like it was the most fascinating structure ever made on earth, Gabriella realized that in the short time she and Troy had developed the closeness they are currently enjoying, he had become someone she has gotten used to seeing, feeling and basically just being with.

The friendliness between them which was originally intended to be just that while they're in the marriage became romantic in a way—at least for her and maybe for him as well to a certain extent—and quite sexual at that, which was perfectly normal but it was also part of the reason why she fell for him when she told herself not to. Given the intimacy and the personal closeness they have, she had unwittingly labeled him as someone constant in her life . . . even before they decided to keep the marriage going beyond the agreed upon time.

Since she has no inkling whatsoever except for the mild to moderate or at times irresistible affection he's been showing her since they became friends, she could only wish he has the same sentiments as her. That his decision to stay in the marriage outside of the agreed upon time has reasons that run deeper than appeasing his guilt or feeling obligated or wanting enjoyable company beyond five years.

That somehow, deep inside, love has something to do with most of his endearing actions toward her . . . that in the near future, he can also label his feelings for her as _love_.

_God!_ All this thinking is making her feel insecure. She knows she shouldn't be. They're married. But how can she stop herself from being apprehensive? When, at this day and age, marriage has never been a guarantee for happy endings.

And she's fairly certain—childish fantasy it maybe or even cheesy to some people—she wants their marriage to work. So again the question comes back to . . . does he love her? Will he love her? Because if he doesn't or he won't love her, then what will happen when passion is no longer enough to sustain their marriage?

_Damn it! I need a break from missing him._

_And I miss you more than I should  
Than I thought I could  
Can't get my mind off of you_

It's hard to miss someone and especially if that someone is the one you love. And more so when the certain someone has no clue whatsoever that his wife is already in love with him and is quite disappointed that when he left, he still doesn't know what's screaming to burst out of her chest.

She should have said something before he left Monday morning but like every other time that she's close to him and he's being quite _attentive_, her mind set slips and she's easily enmeshed by his innate charms.

Experiencing sex—a good one at that—and having a sex life that's quite active, she already recognizes that there are things a woman's body needed. And oh boy, does Troy know how to give them.

She closed her eyes as her mind wandered off from the studio, where she was with Sharpay, three of Troy's cousins and Chad, who were all there to keep her company and, according to them, cheer her up but instead all ended up loudly arguing over one trivial matter to the other when they got bored goofing off with the studio props and equipment.

Missing Troy highlighted her loneliness. But the forlorn feelings also aroused memories of last Monday when he unexpectedly joined her in the shower. Tingles of remembrance came fluttering as her mind effortlessly drowned out the noise from her companions.

_She undressed and stepped under the warm spray, enjoying the feel of the water sliding down her skin, soothing her muscles. She tried to relax her mind and not think of him leaving in three hours. But it was difficult not to. Once her hair was fully drenched, she grabbed the shampoo and spread it through her hair, slowly lathering the length as her mind drifted._

_Work will occupy her time while he's away. And she can always go out with Sharpay like usual . . . shopping and . . . shopping and . . ._

"_You make a very alluring picture."_

_She nearly choked on a mouthful of water when she gasped in surprise at the sound of Troy's voice. Quickly washing away the shampoo that spilled to her face, she blinked several times and half turned to find him standing by the open sliding glass door of the shower area, watching her._

"_What?"_

"_Can I join you?" He inquired with an admiring little smile evident on his chiseled lips._

_She was suddenly shy around him, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that she's stark naked and he's fully clothed, gazing intensely at her. There wasn't any doubt in his eyes what he intended to do with her under the shower spray. _

_Before she could say anything, he stripped off his clothes, tossed them aside and took a couple of steps for the shower. He stood directly in front of her, covering her from the force of the spray. Her hand fell to her sides, momentarily forgetting there's still some unwashed shampoo on her hair as she stared up to him. _

"_Please do." She whispered, earning her a soft chuckle from him._

_His gaze moved down to her seductive lips, then drifted languidly along the smooth valley between her breasts, to the flat stomach and further down the highly sensitive junction of her femininity. "I'll wash your back for you." He said once his appreciative gaze went back to her face and he reached behind him for the bottle of body wash._

_She was confused. She expected to be kissed by now, pressed up against the cold tiles, taken quickly and even roughly but as she somberly assessed his naked form, bare chest down to his bare feet where his toes grazed hers, she sensed as if he was prolonging the hours or at least making sure to have added quality time together, other than the day prior and last night, before they have sex and before he jets off._

_Staring at the fragrant white liquid on his palm as he slowly lathered it until it was soapy, she dutifully obeyed his softly spoken, "Turn around." And let him work his way from her shoulders down her back to her waist and then her hips._

_It felt wonderful. His hands slick from the water and body wash, sliding down her skin, relaxing not only her muscles but her weary mind as well. She let go of her earlier worries and momentarily forgot that in a few hours he'll be gone and yet she still hasn't said anything to him about what she's feeling._

"_Fly off to the farm as soon as your schedule clears." He kissed her temple and his hands lingered over the curve of her hips. "I want you with me, Gabi."_

_It wasn't a profession of love like she hoped but it's probably the closest she'll get and for that moment alone, it's good enough to hear. "I will."_

"_I will call you as often as I can."_

"_You better." She turned her head sideways to meet his lips in a gentle kiss._

_He spoke against her lips. . "I'm still here but I already miss you." The quality of his voice over the gentle sound of the shower spray was deep and raspy that it can easily pass as seductive._

_Leaning back against his strong chest as she realized he pulled her up closer to him and felt his erection probing between her thighs. She hummed low in her throat when the line of her shoulder came in contact with the tiny whiskers on his firm jaw, lightly scraping the smooth skin._

"_I do too, Troy."_

"_Let's make the most of the few hours."_

_She reached behind her to grip his water slick thighs while one of his soapy hands cupped her buttocks and slid easily toward the front to slip between her legs while the other fondled her breast._

_There were no words needed. She didn't need to be told what to do next. _

_Instinctively, with the spell of lust unbroken and shoving aside the slight trepidation with the position they haven't done before, she stretched out her arms and pressed her hands against the glass enclosure of the shower area to brace herself. Troy continued to nuzzle her neck, gently nipping the sensitive spot near the base of her throat and his rigid penis pressing against her again, seeking entrance._

"_Gabi . . . here . . . now." He grated, his hold on her tightening. "I want you." _

_She pressed back against him in answer, took a step to open her legs and braced both hands against the glass for his entry._

_As the warm water sluiced down their bodies, he eased forward, slipped between her parted thighs and with his hands gripping her hips firmly, tilted and lifted her until he could enter her from behind._

_She threw her head back to his shoulder upon penetration, wanting to reach back and touch him but couldn't as she was pushing herself against the wall to meet his forceful thrusts from behind her. It was frustrating but breathtaking at the same time._

_She couldn't stop crying out from the pleasure of his driving force as he filled her, moved in and out of her at such an insanely fast pace, possessing her completely. Nothing intelligible was coming out of her parted lips. She tried saying his name but what came off was her pant of pleasure that kept getting louder and louder with every plunge he made._

_His own breath came ragged as well, even sounding like a low growl against her ear. Igniting the surge of lust, longing, sadness and hope they felt individually. The steam from the warm shower spray enveloped them but the temperature inside the enclosure began its steady climb the longer they kept on until finally, when Gabriella was certain she could not bear anymore of the heat and the sweet ecstasy, Troy sensed it and pushed forward all the way to the mouth of her womb._

_She cried out, convulsing uncontrollably around him while he persisted to move faster, drawing her hips even closer. After a while, she felt him stiffen and then he shuddered, bursting inside her with a satisfied groan._

_Her entire body was trembling as he carefully withdrew from behind. If it weren't for the support of his strong arms still wrapped tight around her, she would have wilted down the shower floor. Pressed between Troy's heavily panting body and the cold glass wall with the water still spraying on them, there was little strength left in her as she tried to draw in gulps of air._

_Her mind, slowly coming to grips with reality, was telling her to say it . . . to just simply blurt out the three words but pride and her heart demanded that she should mean more to him than what was apparent. _

_So when he regained his breathing and turned her to face him, regardless how handsome and seductive he looks with his hair plastered wet to his head and thin lines of water streaming down the sides of his face, she willed herself not to say any more than what was needed at that moment. In fact, she didn't have much to say anyway since Troy swiftly took her wet lips in a kiss before hoarsely whispering, "Don't forget about me while I'm gone."_

_She rested her forehead against his and gently shook her head, "I don't think it's possible to forget you, Troy."_

"I can do things with my fingers but my thumb . . . hah!" Adam cockily nodded his head at Sharpay and Chloe who bore identical disgusted faces directed at him. "They accomplish a lot!" Then he clapped hands with a snickering Chad in a high five.

The loud slapping of palms brought Gabriella's attention back to the present. She gave the group a quick once over, realizing that she had been naughtily daydreaming about Troy in the middle of the cluttered studio with her friends and her cousins in law. She blushed guiltily despite the others seemingly unaware that she was mentally somewhere else just a minute ago.

"I don't want to know whatever miracles your _thumb_ is capable of!" Sharpay shrieked, wagging a tapered finger at Adam as some sort of warning that he shouldn't give too much information on such a nauseating subject.

Chloe quickly agreed after taking a sip of her soda. "Yeah! You know, Adam, I've always liked you better when you talk less." Then she reached forward from the prop couch she was seating on to grab a bag of chips from the pile of junk food on the table in the middle of their circle.

Adam dismissed the remarks with a casual shrug of indifference and laughed along with the other two guys. "My thumb will aspire to be as useful as your thumb." Brad announced and raised his own thumb for a mid air press against Adam's thumb.

"As will mine." Chad seconded, also raising his thumb.

"I will never again question why the three of you have no love life." Chloe derided who acted, funnily enough, just like Sharpay.

"Hey missy! I have a girlfriend." Brad averred.

But before he could draw the next breath, Sharpay quickly put in. "She has my deepest sympathy, Brad."

"Make that two. I pity Kendall too." Chloe added, her face looking appropriately saddened.

"Well, I pity any dude you makes the mistake of having you two for a girlfriend." Chad said and the two guys grunted their conformity as they chomped sloppily on their slices of pizza. It earned him a glare from Sharpay and Chloe's flipflop to fly in his direction.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and hastily tossed a lock of misplaced hair over her shoulder. "That _dude_, Danforth, will be the luckiest man on Earth. Chocolates or oysters won't be needed when he's with me."

That made Gabriella stifle a laugh but she gave Sharpay a mild reprimand, "Don't be naughty, Shar." Chloe did not bother to hide her mirth.

A few moments of silence ensued, the guys looking at each other with inquiring faces. "What?" Brad asked, scratching the side of his head. "Chocolates and oysters?"

"Aphrodisiac?"

"I don't get it."

Chloe gave off an unladylike snort before fishing a misplaced princess crown made of fake diamonds from the floor then placing it over her head and leaning back on the couch comfortably. She shot Sharpay a knowing smirk. "They didn't take a smart pill today."

"Clearly." Sharpay quipped then cast her hazy eyed best friend a glance. "Gabs, would you like to get your mind off of Troy for a bit and explain to these _less intelligent creatures_ what I mean?

Gabriella looked over at Sharpay who was cocking a brow at her then to the others who seem to have forgotten of her presence when the reason why they were there in the first place was to keep her company. In fact, it was Adam's idea that they fly to L.A., since they had breaks from their respective schools, and stay in the mansion for a few days while Troy is gone to, as he said, "_keep your mind from wandering too much"._

They weren't doing a good job of it obviously.

"Chloe, why the hell do you know these things?!" Brad reacted, throwing down the pizza crust on its box and gave Chloe an angry gaze. "Don't tell me you're having sex already."

"I'm not!"

Adam frowned darkly at his cousin. "How do you know then?"

"I read it in Cosmo! You know, the magazine?"

"Hey. Hey!" Sharpay intervened. "Will you two just zip it?! We read it in the magazine, while you three were fawning over the model Gabriella was shooting earlier." When she was satisfied that the boys recognized their mistaken assumption, Sharpay reverted her attention to Gabriella. "So my dear best friend who I live my love life vicariously through—minus the sex part, of course, coz' if I did, that'd be so not normal and quite a sick thing to do—go ahead with explaining to these guys what I mean."

Gabriella shifted uneasily on the L-shaped divan, aware that Sharpay knew her mind had drifted again. Giving her friend an irritated glare before she focused her gaze on the three guys, she jumped on to state, "Chocolate is also an aphrodisiac, same as oysters."

"Oysters look like genitals so that one I believe, but chocolates?" Chad deduced . . . or at least tried to.

"You just had to say genitals, don't you?" Sharpay snorted.

Chad bluntly responded, "Would you rather hear me say vagina?"

Making a slicing motion with her arm, in the air between Sharpay and Chad, to cut the dagger gazes being exchanged by the two, Gabriella hurriedly explained, "Umm, oysters are actually high in zinc which is a mineral known to improve sexual potency in men. It also has a high dose of D-Aspartic acid, a compound effective in releasing sex hormone."

Adam very slowly nodded and looked at Brad who was gaping at Gabriella like she talked to them in an alien language. "Uh-huh." He intoned, a forgotten pizza in hand. "And chocolates?"

"It contains phenylethylamine and serotonin, both feel good chemicals that are similar to those released during sex."

"Wow." Brad voiced out after a good three minutes, shaking his head as if to let the complicated words sink in. "Science."

"Damn, Gabs!" Chad retorted, both amazed and amused. "There must be an enormous library inside that pretty head of yours."

Adam blurted out the only thought that came to mind. "You're a nerd."

A pinkish tint smeared Gabriella's cheeks at Adam's label but she already feels quite comfortable with him that she didn't take it the wrong way. "Yep, guilty as charged." She admitted breathily.

But Sharpay did. She instantly shot back at Adam. "What are you, pubescent? Contrary to what you believe, intelligence is required in the real world. Gabriella is not socially inept like some geeky high school kid, which I think is what you are implying."

"No!" He objected then swung his gaze at Gabriella. "I didn't mean it like that." He clarified, raising a hand imploringly.

"What do you mean then?" Chloe challenged, also leaping to Gabriella's defense.

He grinned at Gabriella. "I mean, Troy always did have a thing for nerds—or smart girls. And a good looking nerd for a wife, I'm thinking, is even better. There has to be a reason why he seems so happy lately—oh there's nothing wrong with nerds, by the way, and I don't have anything against them."

"He's happy because he's married to what you call a nerd?"

"No, Sharpay." Adam negated. "From my own standpoint, it's Gabriella as a whole that makes him happy. Her being pretty and smart is just a bonus to an already nice package."

"Thanks, Adam." Gabriella said with a sheepish grin.

"You're welcome, Gabs." He quipped then addressed Sharpay. "It must be exhausting to be you, Sharpay. But with the way you leapt in Gabriella's defense, I sure wish I had a friend like you."

"Adam, I really like you better when you don't talk much or not talking at all!" Chloe groaned, making a show that her ears are hurting from Adam's excessive talking. "We get it! Troy likes smart people. Always have."

"Yeah, it's no secret that Jul—"

Chad coughed deliberately to interrupt Brad. While her best friend seem to be missing the veiled meaning to the looks Chad and Adam gave Brad, Sharpay's eyes narrowed and her curiosity peaked even more when Chloe threw a handful of candies at Brad and gave him a not so subtle quelling glare.

Since she really meant she's vicariously experiencing her love life through Gabriella and Troy, Sharpay couldn't help but silently ask, _Jul? What the heck is that?_

* * *

_Troy silently read the introduction on decision making techniques written on the book that was laid open on the table before him. The library was the perfect place for him to be. In fact, for a month now, aside from being a good place to study, it was his favorite place when he wanted to have some peace and quiet. It's also the place where he could wallow in his wretchedness without having other people asking him questions and telling him that it'll all be okay soon._

_The spot he occupied that was secluded from the general area of the library he already claimed as his own, since no one but him sat there. Yeah, the books on the shelves closest to his table do smell like stinky feet, probably from disuse, but what the hell. He likes staying there for the privacy. No one disturbs him and even when Chad comes looking, he can't seem to find him there._

_He's still hasn't recovered from Julie's betrayal. He still thinks of what he did wrong. He still has so much anger and hatred in his heart that just thinking about the last time he saw her with himself eagerly awaiting her arrival and anticipating when he would propose that same night, makes him want to go into a fit of rage. She made a fool out of him._

_After leaving Albuquerque to finish the remainder of his college years, he tried his hardest to rid his mind with thoughts of Julie. He knew it wasn't going to be easy but he was determined. And as expected the first two weeks had been a damn struggle, usually ending with him off at some frat party drinking himself to a stupor or entertaining himself with plenty of girls who offer their delectable bodies to him. _

_But by the third week, he eased up on the drinking since it was affecting his academic performance. Julie or no Julie, he still wanted to graduate on schedule. That's why the library became like his second apartment. But even with everything he's occupying his mind with, there are still lingering memories that fill his head every so often. If he could just get rid of it once and for all . . . then he wouldn't be feeling like he's been to hell and back every day he wakes up._

_Dammit! He can even smell her perfume over the stink of the old books._

_He groaned and knocked his forehead against the textbook on the table just as he heard footsteps nearing his space. Without looking up, he raised a halting hand at whoever dared intrude on his privacy and said, "Whatever it is you want to ask, I don't know and yes, I do mind the company. I prefer to be alone."_

_He was surprised when the intruder responded in a very familiar voice. "You don't have to say anything. I just need you to listen."_

_His head jerked up violently. She was there . . . right in front of him. Impossible! He completely lost it this time. He's seeing things. But even as he tried to tell himself its all mind trick, he couldn't stop his other senses from acknowledging that she's really there and not some sort of apparition._

"_You must have the doggedness of a bloodhound to find me here." He snapped, his body instantly tensing in anger. "Leave!"_

"_Troy, I owe you an apology and an explanation. Please give me a chance to say it." Julie implored, debating whether to come any closer or stay where she was seeing the wrath in his eyes. "Please just . . . listen."_

_With a hard edge to his tone, he read the first paragraph in the book. "The techniques in this section help you to make the best decisions possible with the information you have available. With these tools you will be able to map out the likely consequences of decisions, work out the importance of individual factors, and choose the best course of action to take." Julie's face registered confusion but she didn't say anything to interrupt him. "Do you know what this book is?"_

_She shook her head. Sadly, she realized Troy will not listen. "No." Guilt was eating her up inside and he may not believe it but ever since she left Albuquerque, she would always find herself wanting to cry. It wasn't because she regretted being engaged to another man. It was because she had unduly hurt more people than she realized when she went with that decision._

"_This book is actually quite useful. You know why?"_

"_No, Troy." Julie replied weakly. _

"_There are very good techniques here that help me select between different options which was very useful when I had a go and no-go decision to make. I was suffering from decision paralysis but thanks to this book, I got moving again."_

"_What decision did you make?" She was almost afraid to ask but it was already clear on his face._

_He laughed shortly and slammed the book shut, causing a noise to sound off toward the more crowded area of the library. "Funny you should ask. You're the fucking reason for my decision." Most of the people there looked over in their direction but after seeing nothing unusual happening, went back to their business. "To be less trusting, less gullible and lastly to not give you the time of day to tell me whatever crap you concocted beforehand that would make me understand why you became a two timing bitch."_

_Julie drew in a huge breath and closed her eyes briefly. Then without warning, she stepped closer to reach for his clenched hand on the table, enclosing it with her hands and softly said, "Troy, I deserve that and more. I'm so, so sorry—"_

_He gritted his teeth and fought against the touch of her thumb softly stroking his fist. He felt like he was being burned. It made him feel worse than he already does. It felt so wrong. And to see the same ring on her finger while she stroked his hand, added insult to injury. "Get the hell out of my sight!" _

"_Troy . . ."_

His eyes quickly shot open then after several unsteady breaths, cursed silently as he pushed himself upright from the hammock he fell asleep in. Another unwanted dream . . . or more like nightmare. He was missing Gabriella before he dozed off. Why the hell would he dream of Julie?!

Julie's touch felt so real in his dream. It was almost as real as Gabriella's stroking of his hand when they were at his parent's house. But if he were to compare to Julie's, his wife's touch feels infinitely nicer. He would trade anything right now to feel even just a stroke of Gabriella's hand on his . . . especially if it's like the last time when they were watching the movie.

Leave it to Gabriella to erase thoughts of Julie.

Troy found himself smiling at the memory of how wonderfully she had traced the lines of his palm so much so that it aroused him. She even drew symbols on his hand that he could not decipher because of the growing arousal he wasn't able to control because of her touch.

He misses her . . . so much. He couldn't wait to get home. He's determined to learn all the things he needs to know here in the farm by the end of the week because any longer than that he'll probably go crazy from not being with Gabriella.

_What was that she was drawing on his palm? _He recalled there was a straight linethen . . . curved shapes . . . was it letters? No, it was a shape. He stared off into the field where the tea bushes were planted but he wasn't really seeing any greens. He was deep in thought, trying to remember the figures Gabriella drew. An oval . . . or half of it. She drew that last.

"Mr. Bolton, the leaves are ready for your inspection." One of the workers suddenly said, cutting through Troy's concentration. He looked at the worker and nodded, pushing off from the hammock to follow him.

Troy, not wanting to relinquish the pleasurable thought of trying to solve what Gabriella had drawn on his palm many days ago, slightly lifted his hand and using his fingertips from the other hand tried to draw what he remembered of Gabriella's stroking.

_Ah, it was the letter U_. Walking behind the worker, he chuckled at his own stupidity. _I . . . U—_He stopped dead on his tracks. His eyes grew wide, his mouth half open and he looked like he had just been struck by lightning. In his head, the past few weeks began replaying in quick succession and he realized how utterly dense he was to the emotional changes that happened between him and Gabriella.

"Sir? Mr. Bolton, are you okay?" The concerned worker asked as soon as he saw his boss had stopped walking and stood frozen on the dusty path. "Sir?"

_She loves me? She loves me. _Suddenly, he swung his astounded eyes at the confused worker. "Shit, I deserve to be strangled over and over. I'm an insensitive jerk!" He said, grabbing the other guy's upper arms and shaking him with force. "She loves me!"

For lack of anything to say, the worker responded politely. "That's great, Mr. Bolton." The poor guy wasn't used to such an erratic display of behavior from his usually quiet and suave boss so with a good amount of confusion, he asked, "Who's the she?"

"My wife!" He exclaimed, hardly noticing the unenthusiastic reaction from his worker. Troy's dumbfounded face all of a sudden showing a very wide smile. "She loves me. Can you believe it?!"

"Uhh—yes?"

"Yeah!" He clapped his hands on the worker's already bruised arm, grinning from ear to ear. And when he dropped his hands, he began pacing agitatedly. "I don't think I can inspect tea leaves right now."

"But—"

"I have to go home."

_I know you're scared that I'll soon be over it  
That's part of it all  
Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won't fall  
It hasn't felt like home before you  
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel  
This way  
_

* * *

"Hey Evans! Your phone is ringing." Chad called out to Sharpay who went to the pantry to get more drinks from the fridge.

Sharpay came out in a half run, carrying two bottles of Evian and six cans of soda. She dumped all of it on the table next to the bags of chips and grabbed her phone to answer it while Chad and the other two guys each took soda from the pack.

"Hello?" She said. It was an unknown number.

"Pay!" A lively male voice echoed from the other end. "Guess who just landed in L.A."

"Oh my God!" She shrieked. Everyone looked at her animated form, even Gabriella who was in the dark room came out to see what the screech was about. "You're here!"

"Of course, I promise I'd visit, didn't I? I always make good on my promise."

With the phone still pressed tight to her ear, Sharpay swung around in Gabriella's direction and exclaimed, "Paolo's here!"

* * *

A/N: Thank you all my wonderful readers and of course to the reviewers who take the time to share their thoughts with me. It means a great deal, you guys. And I just love reading them. Sunnycougar, emmalouise, canada4ever, didumissmeofcourseudid, Dee31, smartgirl231814, .lov3, sheena . . . and everyone else! Thank you so so much!

Anyway, I dedicate this chapter to _**awesome!kat** over at FF. Happy Birthday!!! I made it. Right on schedule. :D Oh and you're even more awesome coz' you like Joshua Radin. Lol! Happy birthday again, kat! Wish you all the best. Have fun! _


	23. Chapter 23 Interlocking

* * *

Chapter 23

**_Disclaimer:_** _Usual disclaimer applies. HSM's Troy and Gabriella, Sharpay and Chad are, in my opinion, brilliantly characterized and the actors who played them exuded so much chemistry (especially T&G) that several other scenarios come to mind with these two lovely characters together. In short, no infringement intended. :)_

* * *

"Do I look okay?"

She looked same as always. But she wasn't about to tell her that. "More than okay."

"Does this color clash with my skin tone? I have another one in a different shade of pink." She sprinted toward her walk in closet that looked like had been a casualty of a hurricane and started digging into several piles of clothing to find the one she was referring to.

From the bed she was sitting on, Gabriella swallowed a giggle to point out, "Its pink, Sharpay. You've been wearing pink since . . . the very first time I laid eyes on you. Pink is you."

"Not helping, Gabriella." She shouted from somewhere in the closet. "I want to look different. Wear something that says: forget the rest of the world, it's me you want . . . aha! Found it." She marched out of the closet to show Gabriella a pale pink mini dress accented with sparkly embellishments—lots of it.

"Pay, we're just having dinner with Paolo. You're not performing on stage."

"You're saying this is too over the top? That's my goal, you know. Anything that will grab his attention and keep it there."

"I'm saying you'll blind him with all that glitter and it looks like you're it imminent danger of toppling over . . . do you even know how much all those rhinestones weigh?"

"You're exaggerating." She dismissed the possibility as ridiculous and strode toward the full length mirror to inspect the dress, angling her body slightly to the left or right to see how good it will look from all points of view. "He won't be able to take his eyes off me, which is my goal by the way."

"Chances are he won't be able look at you because of the glare from that dress." Gabriella stated in a reasonable tone. She understood Sharpay's excitement over seeing Paolo. Hell, she was excited too. They haven't seen him in months because of his work, so opportunities like this are rare to come by. They would have run off the studio yesterday to see him but for some strange reason Paolo obdurately insisted they get together the following day which was today. And since they have no idea of his whereabouts or what hotel he might be staying, they stayed put, waiting for the hours to pass. But in her opinion, Sharpay's mind has been clouded with anticipation over seeing the love of her life that she's making too much of a fuss over a simple dinner which Gabriella is certain will be like every other dinner they had in the past. Also because of said excitement, her best friend seems to have forgotten that Paolo always did favor the simple and even understated beauty.

"Fuck. I hate to say this but you're right. I'm so fucking stressed out!" She groaned tossing the dress carelessly aside and stomping like a whiny child toward the couch. "I don't know what to wear . . . that has never been my problem before."

Gabriella smiled lopsidedly. "Forget its Paolo we're having dinner with."

"What's wrong with you?! It's Paolo we're having dinner with."

"I mean, choose what you want to wear for dinner . . . whatever you feel like wearing that's comfortable and stylish at the same time. Think of tonight like it's just any other dinner date you have. Don't think about Paolo while you're deciding what to wear."

"I want him to notice me, Gabs. See me differently."

"The other guys you go out with notice you all the time! But I'm sure you didn't make a fuss over what you'll wear." Gabriella averred then smilingly added, "You're kinda hard not to notice, Pay. You stand out. You are gorgeous and it's the kind of gorgeousness that only you can carry with elegance."

"Paolo is not one of those _other guys_! I love him." Sharpay pointed out raking her fingers through her still damp hair. She wasn't kidding about being stressed over the upcoming dinner where she will get to see Paolo again. "I loved him ever since I learned that girl's chests grow into breasts while boys don't undergo that stage. I loved him even more when he climbed that giant tree in my parents' estate to get me down because I was too scared to move a muscle, assuring me all the while that there's no reason for me to be afraid because he was there." She sighed as though exhausted from talking then in almost inaudible voice, she said, "Tonight is important to me, Gabs. I intend to change how he sees me. I'm not his sister, never was, never will be. I want him to be aware of that."

Gabriella sighed as well and stood up from the bed to sit next to Sharpay. She's very much sentient of her friend's feelings for Paolo and in fact, if she had her way, the two would be involved romantically already. In her opinion, they are perfect for each other. At one point she had even predicted, they will end up getting married. Except, Paolo's career choice derailed her hopes of seeing them together. She draped an arm over her drooping shoulders and gently squeezed. "I don't know how my brother's mind works nowadays but just be yourself, Pay. Paolo will be stupid not to see what's right in front of him."

Sharpay managed to lift the corners of her lips in a small smile and rested her head on Gabriella's shoulders. "What if he's really stupid?"

"I promise to smack his head on the pavement until he realizes how stupid he is."

Picturing her best friend, who looked as fragile as a china doll and who at her full height doesn't stand past Paolo's shoulders, manhandling her brother who was several heads taller and weighs almost five times her own weight, Sharpay couldn't help the bubble of laughter from escaping her lips. "No wonder you're my best friend." She said, gently nudging Gabriella's side. "But I think you can smack Paolo better with Troy there to help you."

A sudden sadness crossed Gabriella's face at the mention of Troy's name but she managed to cover it up as quickly as it came. "Yeah . . ." Then she pushed away from Sharpay to eye her with a bit of curiosity. "Wait, when did you start calling Troy by his first name?"

Sharpay pondered on the query, trying to recall. "Memory fails me." She shrugged her bony shoulders. "But since by my observation, your absent husband seems to show genuine affection for you and you to him, I thought why not."

"Thanks . . . I think."

Waving a careless hand, Sharpay leaned back on the couch and for a moment let her mind veer off of her clothing dilemma that's best to capture Paolo's attention to silently observe Gabriella's facial expression. She came up with only one conclusion. "You only miss the ones you love." She stated offhandedly.

"What?"

"I love Paolo so understandably, I miss him. But I'm sure I don't look as morose as you do now. Truth be told, you have been looking quite forlorn ever since he left and I'm not the only one who noticed." It was clear that Sharpay wasn't asking for confirmation. She was stating her observation and whatever she saw was fact not to be disputed. "You must love Troy quite a lot for you to be like this."

She did not bother to deny, but said instead, "Heaps."

"Heaps what?"

"I love him heaps."

"I see." Sharpay softly noted, as if she already knew Gabriella's feelings for Troy would end up like so, and then she added, "You know I meant it when I said I'm living my love life through you."

She was given a sideways glance by Gabriella who didn't know if she should be flattered or wary of such regard.

But without waiting for her friend to utter a word, Sharpay proceeded to ask, "I have to know, is he aware you love him heaps? And has he told you he loves you _heaps_ back?"

In answer, Gabriella negated the question by slowly shaking her head side to side then averted her gaze from Sharpay's scrutinizing eyes.

"No?—as in, you haven't declared your heaping love for him yet?" Sharpay sounded a bit flabbergasted.

"He still doesn't know."

"When do you plan on telling him?"

Gabriella shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem indifferent but she was asking the same question to herself and more importantly, if she even should tell him.

If Sharpay was worried or disappointed, her face didn't show any of it. But she sat straight and sighed pensively, "I'm gonna have to reconsider living my love life through you. I want Paolo to know I love him and I definitely want to hear him say it back."

Despite herself, Gabriella chuckled softly. "Kinda weird, but we seem to be in a similar situation."

"Except you're married to Troy. I'm not legally bound to Paolo."

"What will you do if Paolo doesn't say it back?"

"I'll slap him, tell him what a fool he is and leave with dignity. Then probably drink to forget and when I'm sober I'm sure I'll cry my eyes out." Sharpay answered after a moments thought. Gabriella couldn't tell if she was serious or merely giving an expected reply but she didn't have time to decide either since Sharpay followed through with, "And you? What will you do when Troy doesn't love you back?"

"I . . ." She hesitated, not wanting to contemplate such a scene ever occurring. But she knows it's a big possibility. She has no guarantee that the affection and attention Troy has been giving her can be construed to mean love. What if he doesn't? Can she also say the things Sharpay mentioned she'd do to Paolo? "I haven't thought that far ahead." She admitted.

"I will smack his head on the pavement too or better yet I'll smack his and Paolo's head together." Sharpay averred, sounding quite determined to put into action what her mind thought of. "If that still doesn't knock some sense into their thick heads, I'll add Danforth's head to the mix."

Gabriella shot her a befuddled look. "Where does Chad fit into this?"

Sharpay's face contorted into a grimace and it would appear like she was mentally berating herself for the thought of Chad ever occurring in her head. "Danforth annoys the crap out of me."

In a flat tone, Gabriella said, "Sure, he does."

"He does!" She insisted, already on the defensive. "Don't make an issue of this, Gabriella Montez. He's no Paolo."

* * *

From the moment he left the farm up until he sat on his assigned seat in the crowded plane, it was the innocent gesture of Gabriella tracing the words I love you on his palm that kept replaying in his head. He was grinning like an idiot and he felt like he was showered with an enormous blessing from the high heavens that was so unexpected and overwhelming all at once. In his opinion, for the reason that he's failed to realize sooner what she's been feeling for him, he's undeserving of her love but at the same time, he's unwilling to let it go and he welcomes the delight it gives him knowing that someone like Gabriella is in love with him.

He's been itching to get home. To see her, hold her, kiss her, tell her how happy he is to be home . . .

How much he needs her in his life . . . and tell her he loves her too.

All his pleasant thoughts were only ruined when the plane was already airborne since, in his haste to fly back to L.A., he had to endure a rather uncomfortable and unpleasant non first class seating next to a very, very insufferable seven year old kid who for some perverse logic found entertainment in experimenting how much air is needed to make a large ball from a bubble gum and pop it so the blob sticks all over his face.

If it weren't for his excitement over seeing Gabriella and knowing how their life will make an even better turn because of their feelings for each other, he would have elbowed the kid hard enough to make him loose consciousness so at least he could go back to imagine and anticipate the reunion with his wife without hearing a loud pop every now and then.

He scowled darkly at the conveyor belt, getting more and more annoyed every time other passengers would spot their luggage and pull them out from the moving contraption. Why must this damned thing move so slow? And where the hell is his luggage?

He's beginning to grow roots on the particular spot of the floor he was standing on. He was never good with waiting and at this time the little patience that he stored has already reached its limits.

"_Yo! I'm in a hurry here people! Give me my luggage!"_ If he didn't have a name and a business to protect, he would have shouted the words already. It was becoming very tempting to do so. He should have expected setbacks like this since his departure from the farm was unscheduled. But for the love of all that's nice in this lifetime, it's been way too long!

He expelled a harsh breath and did his best to calm his irritation by thinking of the hour or less ahead when he would finally get home and surprise Gabriella. It's one to look forward to. He tried to imagine her reaction and it worked to soothe his impatience. . . her twinkling brown eyes will most likely grow wide upon seeing him and her kissable lips will be agape in surprise before it will slowly spread wide into a delighted smile.

For his part, he's very certain he'll drink in the sight of her, admire her beauty from afar before making his presence known and then he'll wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace, feeling her soft curves pressing against him, smelling her unique scent. He'll cup her face with both hands and let his eyes roam her elegant but exotic beauty and ever so slowly run his fingers through her glorious mass of ebony curls . . .

"Hey mister." A voice interrupted Troy's vivid imagination of how the next hour will be happening. He looked to his right but quickly swung his gaze to the other side when he felt a light nudge from his left. His vision dropped down to a young girl who had a doll clutched protectively in one hand and a lollipop on the other, curiously looking up to him with her big green eyes.

"What?"

"Are you deaf?"

_For goodness sake! Another annoying child._ Troy groaned inwardlybut mustered enough patience to treat the little girl kindly. "What makes you say that? I can hear you clearly."

The girl frowned at him seemingly unconvinced and in a challenging tone, she stated, "Why don't you answer your phone then? It's ringing."

Troy had the grace to be flustered. His hand flew up and unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. He gave the girl a slightly discomfited smile before digging for his phone in his jeans pocket. "Thanks." He mumbled to the girl who turned away when her mother called on her to _leave the stranger alone._

"You're weird." The girl said as she began walking toward her mother.

"Yes?" Troy answered the call as quickly as he could while throwing furtive glances at the pesky little girl, not bothering to check who was calling.

"Mr. Bolton . . ."

"Who's this?"

"Eddie Faulk."

His blue eyes brightened at the mention of the caller's name, forgetting the annoying child and his luggage that still hasn't made its appearance. They exchanged short pleasantries as good manners dictates then Troy listened as the other man started to get down to the matter of his call. It was a long phone call but at the end of it, Troy was put in an exuberant mood all of a sudden and the need to see Gabriella at once grew much greater.

In a split second decision, he swung around, walked briskly from the spot he had been standing on and a few paces later, made a sprint for the exit.

Screw his luggage.

He can always claim it tomorrow.

* * *

Chad stepped through the rustic wooden doors of the The Little Door restaurant and he was greeted by a resplendence of bougainvilleas, ferns and other exotic lush foliage that's a complete contrast to the world outside the wooden doors.

He was no stranger to this place. He'd been here a few times . . . four to be exact, usually on dates and all four occasions he dined with different women in all four themed rooms of the restaurant which offers four distinct and romantic experiences.

He was greeted with familiarity by the receptionist as he lingered longer than necessary in the patio where a tiled fountain and pond was part of the design along with wrought-iron chandeliers and candelabras that impart a soft light during the night.

"Mr. Danforth, it's always a pleasure to see you." The pretty receptionist said, smiling her best smile at an already grinning Chad.

With his charming and gallant side on the surface, Chad took the receptionist hand, cast a quick glance at her name tag to jog his memory of her name and raised her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. "A pleasure it is, Tess."

Tess giggled but quickly remembered she was on duty and should not be flirting with the guests no matter how charming they may be. "Thank you Mr. Danforth." She said, carefully withdrawing her hand. "Let me check your reservation, sir. I'm assuming it's a table for two?"

"When is it not?" Chad asked rhetorically, leaning lazily against the wooden counter as Tess checked her list. He let his eyes roam the patio again, his eyes skimming the wine bar with its eighty-five variety of wines by the glass from around the world.

"Mr. Danforth, your table's this way." A uniformed waiter materialized beside Chad and made a sweeping gesture with his hand in the direction of the dining area.

"Is my date here already?"

"No, sir."

He nodded, looking around the other people in the restaurant then slowly followed the waiter. But before he could cross the entryway of the dining room, he very nearly lost his balance as another body, much smaller than his . . . obviously a woman, accidentally bumped straight into him in her haste to leave the restaurant.

Chad managed to hold on to the woman's upper arms as he steadied his balance and hers, slightly winded up by her clumsiness. "There's no fire! No need to rush." He muttered to her bent head.

She suddenly jerked her head up and he almost lost his balance again when he recognized the face of the woman staring back at him. "Sharpay?!"

Sharpay stood there, too shocked to move a muscle. But she recovered instantly, her body tensed and with enough strength shoved Chad back to dislodge his hold on her arm. "Fuck this night." She muttered on a strangled voice before she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and stepped around a dumbfounded Chad to leave the restaurant.

It took several minutes for Chad to grasp what just happened before he whirled around and ran out the restaurant after Sharpay.

* * *

"Excuse me." Gabriella sprang from her seat not caring if her companions were a little confused by Sharpay's sudden departure.

She went to the restroom, checked every cubicle but she did not find Sharpay in any of them. She tried calling her phone three times but either she didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment or she was too much of a wreck to notice her phone has been ringing.

Much as she misses her brother, she couldn't help but feel like strangling him for his surprise to her and Sharpay. It turned out to be a shocker to both of them and she was too stunned by his news to quickly realize how her best friend must be feeling. Sharpay had already fled their table, mumbling about going to the ladies room, when Gabriella got her wits back in place.

Pressing the redial button again, she walked out into the patio and asked the receptionist if she saw Miss Evans while fervently praying that her friend consider answering her calls. "Come on, Pay . . ."

"She was quite in a hurry to leave, Mrs. Bolton." The receptionist answered.

Gabriella groaned, worriedly running her fingers through her hair as she ended another unanswered call to Sharpay. She turned away from the receptionist's desk and made a move toward the restaurant doors to try and search for Sharpay outside.

As she reached to grab the wooden doors, it opened on its own, making her jump back slightly. She mumbled a distracted _sorry_ at another patron who was about to come in the restaurant but then she was grabbed by the arm and before she could properly react against the strangers sudden touch, she heard the tender whisper of her name.

"Gabi . . ."

She looked up from the familiar hand that currently gripped her arm and she gasped, unable to believe her eyes. "T-Troy?"

He flashed a wide smile and she didn't know if it was the effect of the mellow lights of the restaurant or her own eyes playing tricks on her, but Troy's eyes had a brilliant gleam in them as he gently pulled her into a tight embrace after admiringly inspecting the red dress that perfectly hugged her upper body then flared out elegantly on her hips and ended mid thigh.

"I've been imagining myself hugging you like this since I left the farm." He spoke into her hair, filling his lungs with her wonderful scent.

The tension in her body, the worry for Sharpay momentarily vanished as Gabriella felt Troy's arms close around her and the heat from the solid wall of his chest through the plaid shirt he was wearing seeped to her body and her eyes closed of their own accord at the feeling.

"Aren't you gonna' to say anything?" Troy continued to whisper in her hair while still hugging her, uncaring if the arriving patrons and the restaurant's own staff were staring at their reunion by the restaurant's entrance.

"What took you so long?"

He pulled back slightly to see her face and he groaned and chuckled at the same time seeing her beautiful pouting expression. He couldn't stop himself anymore. So what if they were attracting attention. He cupped her gorgeous face and after a softly spoken, _I missed you so much, _swiftly claimed her lips in a kiss.

* * *

As he rounded the corner of a building, he caught a flash of pink crossing the street that headed to the local park and without thinking if it was wise for him to follow or not, he crossed the same street as well, hoping to catch up with Sharpay.

She had been crying.

He never took her for someone who would cry. But apparently he was wrong. She was crying when she rushed out of the restaurant. Her eyes were wet and red and he sensed she was struggling to keep her emotions and tears in check.

Maybe it was surprise for the tears he saw in her eyes or maybe just out of curiosity as to what made her run out of the restaurant that had Chad to run after her. He's never been a knight in shining armor for a damsel in distress but having seen a usually poised and collected Sharpay looking so dejected, he couldn't seem to contradict the dictate of the small voice in his head to make sure she's okay.

After a few minutes of searching the empty park, Chad spotted her on an iron bench next to an enormous tree and secluded from general area of the park. From his distance, he could see she had her head bowed low, her shoulders were hunched and her slim body was shaking slightly.

He considered staying where he was, just seeing to her well being, make sure no rascal suddenly appears to bother her. But that small voice in his head asserted itself once more and so despite his hesitation, his feet carried her closer to where Sharpay was.

If she sensed his presence, she didn't react the way she normally reacted to him. She stayed seated on the bench, crying softly but furiously wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

Chad sat beside her on the bench. Sharpay did not even bother to look up.

A few minutes of silence, except for the soft sniffs coming from Sharpay, Chad finally decided to speak. "Use my shoulder."

She raised her wet eyes to him and without the usual derision or sting in her voice, she tearfully asked, "What?"

"You can cry on my shoulder."

For a brief moment, Sharpay was surprised by the unexpected offer. With wet eyes, she scrutinized Chad's somber face and for the first time in the course of their acquaintance, she gave him a small smile before carefully resting her blonde head on his dependable shoulders.

* * *

Well into the kiss that was slowly becoming heated, Troy pulled back reluctantly before he loses his control completely. "Gabi . . ." He said breathily, smiling at the flush that tainted her smooth cheeks. "Not here . . . let's go home. We have to talk."

Reality settled back in and Gabriella's eyes rounded into orbs. "Oh my god! Sharpay!"

"Let's tell her we have to go."

"She's not here anymore!" She clamored, the worry for her best friend assailed her senses again. "We have to find her, Troy. She left earlier . . . she's not herself . . ."

"What?—why? What happened? Adam told me you were just having dinner." Troy was eager to leave the restaurant. He wanted to be alone with Gabriella and be able to talk freely, openly about their relationship.

"Yes, we were—I mean, are having dinner with—"

"Ella? Where's Sharpay?"

Troy's head snapped toward the male voice and immediately he knew who the guy is before Gabriella even said, "Paolo . . ."

"What's wrong with Pay?" Paolo asked, while looking from his sister to the man standing very close to her and possessively holding her waist.

"Hi." Troy interrupted, extending a hand at the same man he saw coming out of their honeymoon suite months ago. "I'm Troy, Gabriella's husband."

Paolo looked at Troy then his outstretched hand before finally gripping it in a handshake. "Paolo, Ella's brother." It was a brief introduction as Paolo dropped Troy's hand and asked his sister again. "Where's Sharpay?"

Gabriella would have been ecstatic to see Troy and Paolo finally meeting but current circumstances kept her from rejoicing over the matter. She's more concerned about Sharpay right now and at the same time she felt a kick of annoyance toward her thoughtless brother. "I don't know where she is!" She snapped, surprising both Troy and Paolo. "If something happens to her, it's your fault."

"Huh?" Paolo responded confused by her sister's sudden outburst. "What did I do?"

Gabriella scoffed and rolled her eyes while Troy stood quietly next to her, observing the brother – sister exchange while running a calming hand along her back. Just like Paolo, he had no idea why suddenly Gabriella was irked at her brother over Sharpay's disappearance.

"It's not what you didn't do. It's what you did!"

Paolo stood confounded as he uttered, "But I only introduced you both to—"

"Paolo? What's going on?"

They all swung their gazes over at the source of the voice who, in a white shimmery dress that made her look stunning, was walking gracefully towards them.

Gabriella frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, giving Paolo an angry look.

Paolo realized what Gabriella was talking about and in the space of a few seconds, he found an explanation for Sharpay's very odd behavior earlier.

But unknown to Gabriella, Troy's hand that was stroking up and down her back had dropped abruptly and if she had only looked at him instead of glaring at her brother, she would see Troy had gone perfectly taut except for the spasmodic ticking of a vein in his temple area and upon careful inspection his face suddenly acquired a very hard edge to it.

Not even Paolo noticed the drastic change in Troy's expression but the person who was approaching them did . . . and she knows why.

Paolo called out to his fiancée. "Julie . . ."

* * *

**A/N:** They say it's bad to start with an apology but I owe everyone of my readers a sorry for the long delay in update. So I'm so so sorry. The "ber" months are just hectic for me. It's crazy and it'll get worse. But yeah, I will try my best to update . . .

**Thanks for the wonderful feedbacks/reviews**. Hope you'll like this one too. :)


	24. Chapter 24 Strange Strangers

Chapter 24

_**Disclaimer**: Don't own anything._

* * *

It can be perceived as odd . . . for the most part.

Probably the only normal thing was the night air is abuzz with mosquitoes and other multi-legged creatures which are either flying or crawling stealthily in the perimeter radius where they were in the center of.

It could not be labeled as a common occurrence that after nearly an hour she's still sitting next to him with her head propped on his shoulder while absentmindedly, after a lengthy silence interrupted only by her occasional sniffing and harsh breaths, she began telling him random details about her life before and after she hit puberty. Something she would never consider sharing to the likes of him, if circumstances were any different.

And there is no evident concern either for possible insect bites which she's usually meticulous to avoid.

Nor was it considered normal also, to anyone who knows him well, for him to listen and actually be interested in what a girl—any girl—is saying. He was never one to pay attention about a girl's life story and in her case it was even stranger because he had concluded way back when they first met on that blind date Taylor set up, that she's the human version of a mountain lion and must therefore never, ever be petted otherwise he risks being devoured alive.

But with the attentiveness and concern he was displaying toward her, it would seem like he's enjoying petting a dangerous cat . . . and he doesn't even like cats!

Another oddity of the night.

He didn't have to listen or stay. An occasional nod would have sufficed seeing as she's really not herself and it would seem as if she doesn't even care if he listened or not. But he found himself doing so.

He didn't even remember that tonight's plan was to go on a date or that he already stood up said date.

"We were joined at the hip ever since we met." She said, followed by a soft sound that could have been a deep intake of breath or another sob or a chuckle. "Perhaps it was pure coincidence that our parents decided to send us to a public school where ordinary kids are from middle or lower class families who lived as neighbors, played together, walked to school together . . . we were the odd ones. We arrive and leave school in nice cars with uniformed drivers and about a million other differences that most of the kids took with suspicion and maybe envy."

"So you found each other."

"Yeah." She nodded, unconsciously pressing closer to him when the cool night breeze blew around them. "She was the rich but timid girl and I was the rich and daunting one. Our classmates think we got dropped on earth by a flying saucer. They ostracized us but we were perfectly fine with it. I know they're the aliens not us."

"I'm guessing you hate public schools." He assumed, careful not to make any sudden movements so as not to displace the head resting on his shoulder.

"I actually love it."

"Didn't you just say—" Chad threw her a sideways glance but her face was partially covered by several blonde locks that fell over her cheek.

"People became less wary of us in middle school and it got better in high school . . . we have Paolo, the most popular and the hottest guy in school, to thank for that."

_Paolo?_ His brows lifted in inquiry but thought it better not to voice it out. "That's a relief. It would have been difficult being an outcast."

Sharpay finally lifted her head to look at Chad. She frowned at him but it was the kind of frown that showed doubt or maybe curiosity and not annoyance. "Did you go to a public school too?"

"Yep. Troy & I both did. East High." He answered. There was an air of pride in the way he mentioned his high school.

"You two were outcasts, weren't you?"

"On the contrary, we belonged to the IT crowd. You and Gabriella weren't?" He sounded a little shocked and skeptical at the same time, thinking she's probably not herself yet or maybe she's pulling his leg. There were streaks of dry tears on her cheeks and her eyes were still red but she seems okay already. "I find that hard to believe."

She moved her shoulders to an indifferent shrug then rested her head back on his shoulders. "We had a group of our own friends who are very nice people. Most of them are financially up there and therefore quite popular but outside of that it's always been me and Gabs . . . . we were inseparable."

"Best friends forever." He rejoined casually, a faint smile lifting the corners of his lips as an unexpected realization crossed his mind that the two of them are actually having a normal conversation.

"Yeah. With her talents and my underwear, we were determined to change the world."

Chad's eyes widened—so much for normal conversation—and he very carefully leaned away from Sharpay to grasp both her upper arms and turn her sideways to face him. In a gentle voice that was laced with concern, he advised her, "Don't fight it, Sharpay. Cry. You are not yet okay—whatever made you run out of the restaurant crying—"

"You don't believe me?" She sounded like a confused little girl. "We could have changed the world, you know. I used to design fabulous lingerie for a relative's boutique. People really buy them." She informed him with sad eyes as if she was disappointed to know he didn't support her dream in the underwear business.

"What happened to you in the restaurant?" Chad demanded quietly, ignoring the unrelated topic about undergarments but cautious not to upset more of her current unstable state.

She took a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes and in an unsteady voice, she said, "S-stop s-shaking me!"

He realized what he was doing and stopped outright but his hands stayed holding her. "Sorry."

"Paolo . . ."

Assuming that what happened in the restaurant must've affected her a great deal. "I'm Chad!" He corrected, frantically shaking her again to snap her out of the unsound frame of mind.

"Paolo happened." She slowly moved her head side to side and a lone tear cascaded down her left cheek. "He said it was a surprise . . . turned out to be a fucking shocker. I feel so . . . stop shaking me . . . I'm getting dizzy already."

Chad quickly dropped his hands and mumbled an apology.

He had heard the name being shrieked by her yesterday but like Troy's cousins who were curious of the name because of the apparent excitement it evoked on Sharpay and Gabriella, he has no idea who the guy is. "Who's Paolo?"

"Brother . . . Gabriella's."

"Shit." Chad mumbled worriedly. From what he can see and based on what she's saying, the thing that sent her running from the restaurant in tears messed up her brain big time. If memory serves him right, Gabriella is an only child. "I'm taking you back to your place." He announced, deciding it was better for her to be in the safety and comfort of her own place.

But she continued to speak like there were no pauses in their conversation. She looked straight into his eyes and even when he stood to pull her up from the bench, she did not break eye contact. "I was so ready to tell him, you know. Admit my feelings after so many years of waiting for him to see me not as a friend or a sister . . ."

Chad sat back down, her wet eyes imploring on him. Once he was settled next to her again, she continued, "Do you know how it feels to . . . hope that eventually he'll come around and realize you're it . . . that you can be something more than just really good friends." She paused and sighed dolefully. "You probably don't understand what the hell I'm talking about."

He expelled a breath and leaned his back on the iron bench, staring straight, his face carefully expressionless. "I do."

"What do you mean?" Sharpay asked after leaning back on the bench as well.

"I know how it feels to hope for more."

Despite her inner turmoil over Paolo, what he said piqued her. "Who?"

He afforded her a sideways glance and a grin that Sharpay barely saw the sadness it conveyed. "And here I thought you were the observant one, Evans." He joked, lightly nudging her side.

She gave him a smile. It was a timid one and slightly wobbly, but a smile nonetheless and it's the first sincere smile that graced her lips since leaving her apartment earlier that night. "Are you challenging my amazing powers, Danforth?"

"Depends . . . do you feel challenged?"

"I am a wreck right now and my powers aren't exactly working at optimum level but give me a day or two and I'll figure out who this girl is . . ." She trailed off thoughtfully then added, "Thanks for trying, Chad."

"Trying?"

"To cheer me up."

"Damn you're good!" He exclaimed, earning him a soft peal of laughter from Sharpay which somehow alleviated the gloominess of the night.

"Yup, I am." She quickly enthused despite the crackiness of her voice from crying.

"Modest too."

"You know me so well . . . I'm flattered."

Chuckling, but glad that her usual assertive self is slowly surfacing, Chad turned gradually serious after a short but comfortable silence and hesitantly asked her, "So . . . are you okay?"

"Not really."

He nodded. "I don't mean to pry or anything and you can choose not to tell me but . . . you mentioned this Paolo. Your date? Is he the reason?"

"Yes." She replied a little too vaguely for Chad but before he could dismiss his question and change the topic since it looked like she doesn't want to share the details to him, Sharapy elaborated. "Paolo is Gabriella's adoptive brother. He's a year older and when I met Gabriella, I met him too . . . he went to the same school as the two of us. He was quite protective of his sister so when Gabs and I became best friends the protectiveness extended to me as well."

"You love him." Chad stated plainly and without a doubt in his tone.

"I do." She affirmed, slightly surprised with herself for easily admitting it to Chad. "What can I say? He's sweet, thoughtful and always looking out for me. When he left for college, I was already in love with him and just as I thought it would pass . . . it didn't."

"Did you tell him about your feelings . . . in the restaurant?"

"I didn't get around to doing that. He had news of his own. Even Gabriella was left speechless." Sharpay's eyes watered once again but she tilted her head back trying to stop the tears, gently dabbing the sides of her eyes with a tissue. When she straightened, having controlled her tears, she spoke with an angry edge to her voice. "I knew something was up when he arrived with that—that—that dark haired . . . what's her face! God!"

Finally piecing together the reasons that caused her to be in such a state, Chad's hand flew to her stiff back and began to run his palms up and down in a calming stroke. He wasn't foreign to what she's feeling. He's also been a victim of unrequited love once in his life and the struggles Troy went through because of Julie's betrayal had been a hard experience for him too. "He's fucking stupid, if you ask me."

She stared at him for a few seconds before laughing softly and letting the tears fall freely from her eyes. She buried her face against the cool fabric of his printed shirt, laughing and crying at the same time. "You're right." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "How could he possible think that a Julie Landis is better than Sharpay Evans."

Chad tensed. For a second, he doubted his ears. He gently pushed Sharpay off his chest and looked at her with an unsure expression. "What name did you say?"

"Mine."

"No . . . the other name."

"Julie Landis." She repeated, the ire in her voice for the name still evident. "Paolo's fiancée."

"And this Paolo is Gabriella's brother?!"

"I thought you were listening!"

"I can't believe this is . . . fuck!" Chad slapped his palms over his forehead none too gently and abruptly stood up, pulling Sharpay with him. He ignored her protest as he began dragging her out of the park. "We have to get Gabriella."

"Why?! I don't want to go back there. I don't want to see him!"

"Close your eyes when we get there."

* * *

"_Julie_ . . ."

The moment his vision focused on her, his heart slammed against his rib cage and his brain screamed with incredulity. His body was taut and suddenly unable to move but he could feel his pulse beating like it had just finished running a marathon.

A small part of his mind, not overcome by shock and disbelief, was trying hard to convince the other part that what he was seeing is unreal. But it proved useless.

The realization that after all these years, just when he least expects it, he's seeing his ex girlfriend again hit him smack on. Any calming tactic and sagacity went flying out the window as soon as he recognized who he was looking at. What's even more shocking to him is knowing that because of his relationship with Gabriella and Gabriella's relationship with her brother who by some twisted fate turned out to be his ex girlfriend's fiancé, their lives could be interconnected again!

It was just too much for him to take all at once.

Anger and some other feeling in a similar vein dominated his head. He forgot where he was, who he was with and why he was there, wherever _there_ maybe. Unconsciously, at the sight of her looking almost ethereal in a white sparkly dress, light make up and with her long, now straight brunette hair draping silkily over her shoulders and back as she walked next to the Italian guy who easily found her waist to pull her against him, Troy's hands fisted.

He fought the sudden urge to throw a punch at the other guy who was holding on to her waist with familiarity. What right does he have to feel annoyed with Paolo? Absolutely nothing! But he doesn't know how to stop, not when he's caught unaware, totally unprepared of this odd turn of events in his life.

Julie registered the same shock Troy was going through but unlike him, she managed to keep her jumbled feelings and thoughts in check. She was aware that her fiancé and his sister, Gabriella Montez, knows nothing of her and Troy's past. For one, she never told Paolo about Troy and although Gabriella looked annoyed at the moment for whatever reason, it was directed solely at her brother.

In fact, because of the irritation Gabriella directed at Paolo with her eyes and Paolo, in turn, eyeing her questioningly but with a hint of disbelief, neither of them seems to be sentient that Troy had become like a tight coil ready to spring.

Julie took the distraction to look at Troy, pleading with her eyes for him not to make a scene. She was uncertain what could be running through his mind but more than figuring out his thoughts, she was hoping time had mellowed his hatred for her.

Deciding she should make the first move, she gave him an anxious half smile and opened her mouth to quietly say, "H-hello."

It was a mistake.

His face became even more menacing and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits that Julie reflexively took a back step.

The movement brought Paolo's attention back at her. He averted his eyes from Gabriella and looked at her, smiling charmingly like nothing was wrong. "Sharpay had to leave." He informed her casually, the arm on her waist sliding up to the small of her back and settling there. "But here is my sister's—"

Gabriella interrupted quickly. She gently clutched on to Troy's arm, still unaware of the raging battle going on inside him or the roaring fire in his blue eyes, and proceeded to introduce him herself. "Julie, this is my husband . . ."

She trailed off when Troy unexpectedly yanked his arm from her loose hold as he swung around without warning and stormed out of the restaurant. Then, just as Gabriella was about to call and run in the direction he went off to, a surprising thing happened.

"Troy! No, wait!" Julie called out as soon as Troy moved from his spot next to Gabriella then she quickly ran out to follow him, completely forgetting the fact that she was leaving behind two very confused individuals who didn't know what to make of what she just did.

Gabriella stared at the wooden door for long minutes as if she was waiting for either Troy to come back and get her or for Julie to come back and provide an explanation as to why she ran after her husband like they already knew each other very well. She was bewildered, unsure of what had happened and suddenly, out of nowhere, a faint sense of foreboding slowly began to present itself in her gut.

"They know each other?" Paolo spoke identically baffled by Troy's reaction to Julie and vice versa.

With her mouth gaping open, she slowly swung her head towards Paolo. "Who is she?" Her voice came out low and strained with disbelief. "How long have you known her?"

"Since college." Paolo replied with a frown, trying to make sense of why his fiancée ran off to follow an upset Troy Bolton. He managed to snap out of his confusion and took a step toward the same door Julie exited from.

Gabriella automatically followed in his wake, going out the restaurant and immediately scanning the outside for signs of Troy or Julie. But they were nowhere in sight.

Threading a hand through her hair while the uneasy feeling grew even more like two nagging ideas fighting to prevail, she looked at Paolo again just as he also eyed her. Neither spoke a word to each other but both their eyes mirrored several questions and assumptions about the two who left them.

"Gabriella!" Chad's yelling broke her gaze from Paolo as the big haired guy materialized from somewhere, running towards her with Sharpay in tow.

She was flooded with relief upon seeing Sharpay and quickly rushed forward to envelope her friend in a hug. "I'm so sorry . . ."

Hugging back, Sharpay shushed. "It's not your fault. You didn't know . . . we both didn't."

"Gabs—"

"Thank you, Chad." Gabriella said over Sharpay's shoulder.

Breathing heavily, Chad shook his head. "Let's get you two home." He anxiously looked around for the familiar face of Julie Landis.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" Paolo interrupted, shooting a suspicious look at Chad.

Chad's eyes landed on Paolo, belatedly realizing that he was the guy Sharpay had told him about. Gabriella's brother. Sharpay's love and currently, based on her earlier ramblings, Julie Landis' fiancé. But before he could respond to the question, the scorned blonde did it for him.

"He's none of your business, Paolo." She snapped, untangling herself from the embrace to face him.

Paolo saw the redness of her eyes, the slight puffiness of her cheeks. It doesn't take a genius to know she had been crying. And he knows he's the reason behind the hurt in her eyes. "Pay . . . we need to talk." He said, his tone tender but firm that Sharpay could not even voice out an objection. "Tomorrow, I promise. I just can't right now . . ."

Sharpay watched in silence as he pulled out his cellphone from his pants pocket, pressing a key and putting the phone to his ear. "Call him!" He ordered to his sister as he waited for his call to be answered and Gabriella did so hastily.

"What's going on?"

"Who are you calling, Gabs?" Chad inquired, scuffing his feet in apprehension, impatient to whisk his best friend's wife away from where they are. He isn't oblivious to the fact that Gabriella has been missing Troy. Or that she looks positively glowing whenever she's with him. Or, whether she admits it or not, with the kind of marriage they had, she's looking like a woman already in love with her husband. Therefore, it's not a good idea for her to encounter Julie, not when Troy hasn't told her about that particular past related to her brother's fiancée.

"Troy." She answered distractedly as she pressed a speed dial button.

"Wha—Troy? Why Troy?!"

"He ran off."

"What do you mean by that?" Sharpay asked, her eyes shooting glances from her friend to Paolo who didn't look too happy with the call he was making that wasn't being answered.

Gabriella mumbled something out of frustration when her call to Troy's phone went to voice mail. She gripped the phone tight, ending the call without leaving any message.

"Troy is here?" Chad hesitantly asked, opposing thoughts forming in his head. Not wanting to assume that what she meant by _he ran off _is Troy was with her, because it's impossible that Troy can be in two places at once.

"Was. He _was_ here." Gabriella replied with emphasis, her tone showing signs of wariness, perplexity and annoyance. "He left the farm early and . . . Adam must've told him where I was. He came here to—I don't know—get me or something. I don't know why he had to cut short his stay in the farm."

"Wait. I'm confused." Sharpay butted in, temporarily setting aside her personal issues to clarify the events that took place after she left the restaurant. "If he came here for you, why did he run off?"

Chad cursed inwardly. He already knows why.

"I don't know! He was fine one minute," Gabriella swung her hands in agitation left to right as if trying to make them see what happened just minutes ago. ". . . smiling, saying he missed me then—he just . . . bolted!"

"What's up with this night? Everything is odd."

"Julie ran after him." Paolo added, giving up on calling his fiancée but his face cannot be described as calm or pleased.

Sharpay's upper lip curled in puzzlement along with her well arched brows. "Why?" She demanded but seeing that neither Paolo nor Gabriella knew the answer, she stated the most obvious assumption, looking perfectly scandalized like it was some juicy gossip she had just recently learned. "They know each other!" Then, as if recalling something, she whirled around abruptly to eye Chad. "You know her too, don't you? I mentioned her name and you were up on your feet like fire was chasing you and dragged me along to get Gabriella."

"_Damn you Bolton!_" Chad muttered while his mind worked into thinking where Troy could have scurried off to. It wasn't his place to say and there was no way in hell he was gonna say anything about Troy's past with Julie. Troy will have to do it himself.

Stepping closer, Sharpay asked, "Who the hell is she?"

Chad distanced himself from Sharpay, seeing the usual alertness back in her eyes. She had suspicion written all over her face and she was not the only one. Gabriella and her brother had the same look. It was all directed at him.

Then came Gabriella's timorous voice. "Chad . . . is she . . . important to Troy?"

Cornered. That's how he feels.

He should just have gone on that date.

* * *

A/N: Wow! Like seriously wow! That's like the most reviews I got for any chapter. I'm blown away. I did not expect it...oh, it wasn't my intention to end the last chapter with a cliffy. I honestly didn't even think it was a cliffy until I read a review saying how cruel it was for me to leave it like that. The reason was more for the length of the chapter than anything else. I didn't want it to drag. But I'm sorry for that.

The theme of the reviews were pretty much along the same lines of, _I so did not see that one coming!_ **You guys are fantastic with your reactions! I love it!** But I've got to hand it it to **Rachrep** (an amazing author as most of you know and if you don't it's about time you do), _**your review is spot on. You're right about the Troy-Julie-Paolo past.**_

_**Vivi, hun, here you go. the channeling at FF worked I guess--late but still. Oh I love the fanfic thread title btw. Lol!**_

This chapter is the continuation which I must say I had a hard time finishing because it's not exactly a happy one to write--seeing ZV all smiley and lovestruck and Z giddy at her door with a bunch of flowers and a gift tucked under his arm, did not help one bit. Kinda makes you wish, Santa, _All I want for Christmas is a guy like him. Through the door not the chimney. I want him in one piece._

Oh well, I don't particularly like this part but it must be included because the next chapter (which will not be posted anytime soon...yeah, sorry again.) needs this sort of _intro. _Anyway, I rambled enough so let me know what you think...


	25. Chapter 25 Realize

Chapter 25

_**Disclaimer:** As usual, I own nothing. HSM and it's characters are the owned by Disney._

* * *

There are moments in life you don't get the luxury of having to ponder about certain things or to act in a certain manner that can be considered rational.

When the unusual circumstance presents itself, you are no longer able to think properly and consider the ramifications of your actions partly due to an overwhelming unexpectedness that such a scene is happening to you or that all your planning on how you will act if certain events do take place, even taking into account the worst case scenario, comes up way short.

In turn, you end up hating yourself for letting the douche bag in you come out but at the same time you wish for time to rewind back so you can redo things differently.

And that's exactly what Troy finds himself doing.

He realized his mistake as soon as he stopped running . . . or walking briskly away . . . from the restaurant. Silently grumbling profanities at his own person, he immediately considered going back to Gabriella, to take her back home, which was his purpose in the first place apart from the other very important catalyst that sent him flying back to L.A., and to add to that, profusely apologize and explain the reasons behind his stupid actions. He had started walking back to the restaurant but he ran into Julie as he turned a corner, nearly knocking her down on the pavement.

The apology he was ready to utter for the unfortunate stranger died in his throat as soon as he recognized who she is and just as quickly replaced by anger of a different nature that he had no trouble concealing. "You followed me?—Why the hell did you follow me?!" He demanded of her, aware what implications of her following him would entail to the people they left in the restaurant. Paolo is not his concern but Gabriella is another matter and what she will think with all of these will determine how well or not so well the next hours will be.

Julie awkwardly regained her balance, grabbing onto his arm and not letting go. "You're acting like a child, Troy! It's been years. I said I was sorry and I still am but you still refuse to hear me out!"

He wrenched his arm from her hold. His annoyance no longer centered over her reappearance but that she managed to compound his mistake by coming after him. "Is that it? You followed me to voice your explanation? You didn't even think that this little stunt of yours just made my leaving the restaurant worse than it already is?!" He said, almost shouting but still trying to restrain himself from blowing up on the woman who was once the center of his attention.

She had the grace to look worried upon realization of what she had done, as if she had just remembered her fiancé was present too. The earlier determination in her face little by little changed to anxiousness and she looked like she was ready to cry because of her unwise choice to run after him, which to a certain extent, in a resentful kind of way, pleased Troy.

"He's the same guy, isn't he? The one you accepted the proposal, while you were still in a relationship with me." He said through gritted teeth, doing his best to calm down.

Come to think of it, half of his anger is self directed. If he didn't act like an immature jerk running from the restaurant—well, it would have been alright to run off provided he pulled Gabriella along with him and not left her there—none of this would have happened.

"Yes." She whispered, a hand pressed to her chest as she drew in some air. "We went to the same school, had the same course and shared most the same class."

Troy snorted, his arm flying heavenward. "Well, there you go then! That explains everything and it sure as hell justifies the cheating." Sarcasm is a wonderful tool in instances like this. But a part of him was curious as to why up until now, she's still only just engaged to Paolo. Shouldn't the guy have married her by now? It's been years. If he was so eager to propose to her then and she was equally willing to accept the proposal, why obviate the marriage?

"Troy, I don't mean it like that!" She insisted a little desperately. Then after taking another huge gulp of air, she straightened, dropped her hands to her sides and looked at him squarely. "I'm trying to tell you who he is. I was the one who made the mistake. I did the cheating . . . I don't deny that! And I also understand your hate for me but I did not plan for any of this!"

"Bullshit." Troy growled with derision. "Am I suppose to believe Paolo never mentioned his sister to his fiancée?! He was in Italy during my wedding. He knows my name! Try again, Miss Landis . . . I'm not as gullible as I once was."

Julie silently groaned in frustration. She found it very difficult to tell Paolo about Troy. Her reasons maybe self serving but at that time she was so scared to lose Paolo . . . but hurting Troy was never her intention. He just found out the wrong way. She didn't know Paolo was going to propose and the day she arrived in Albuquerque she had forgotten to remove the ring.

Her life hasn't been exactly pretty after the break up . . . she was persistently being nagged by guilt feelings not just for Troy but for Paolo as well which eventually resulted in a strain in their relationship.

A few months after graduating from college, she and Paolo mutually agreed to separate for an indefinite period when they both landed a job on different organizations, in different states. She didn't like it but she took it as an opportunity to find herself, reevaluate her feelings that had gone awry after the episode with Troy which was entirely her fault. It would have ended there but last year while on charity work in Africa where Paolo was also doing work for UNICEF, they rekindled old feelings and got back together like there was no break in their relationship.

But just when everything is going well, just when she thought telling him about Troy is no longer relevant, she's suddenly faced with this.

Like Troy, Paolo and Gabriella, she had been dealt with the same hand of fate. But there's little she can do about it and Troy will never believe she had no knowledge of this situation. Damaged has been done to both Paolo and Gabriella. But hopefully reparable and everything will end well . . . _well_ being they all go on with their lives in peace.

For that to even have the slightest chance of happening, with all that has taken place, no time is better than now to tell Troy her side of the story. "Paolo doesn't know about you, Troy." She began, the simple sentence designed to absolve Paolo of fault and Troy did not miss her meaning. "I didn't tell him I was already in a relationship with you when I started going out with him . . . it was wrong, I know, but at that time I couldn't find the nerve to tell him. Apart from spending free time with him, we were always assigned in the same group for class projects and for outreach programs . . . I guess I was waiting for him to ask about you . . . but he never did."

"Oh, so he was always by your side and I was not." Troy retorted in a mocking tone. "What the hell happened to you, Julie? I didn't take you for someone so needy that you'd want your man chained to your side at all times—" He paused shortly as a notion struck him. "But then again, I never really knew you, didn't I?"

"The distance took a toll on me, Troy . . . to the point that I got so confused of my feelings."

"I was not oblivious to the distance. I fucking hated it but I sucked it up for the future I foolishly thought we had!" He laughed sardonically as if remembering a particular event in their past that he now made a mockery of. "You should have spared us both the emotional inconvenience. You should have told me how you felt."

As though she purposely ignored the cynicism in his remark, Julie prodded on. "The distance got to me, Troy." She repeated softly, eyes imploring. "There were times when I just wanted to drop everything and go back home."

He frowned. It feels like he was talking to an alien. The Julie he knew was confident, poised, always cool and had a strong personality that matched his own. "What?"

"I suffered a mild depression before sophomore year." She stated simply but it took Troy by surprise because as far as he can recollect, she gave no hint whatsoever that she was depressed and she never told him anything either. "I had regular appointments to a shrink. The expectations of other people were just too high but with my perfectionist tendencies, I forced myself to please everyone. I felt the pressure from my parents, from my professors, from almost everyone, even from you."

"I never pressured you—"

"You did, Troy. Maybe not consciously but when you would constantly talk about what you have planned for us for the future like it was as just a 1-2-3 step, it added to my daily pressures. You were always so excited, lively . . . I didn't want to dampen your spirit and end up arguing with you so I always agree."

"I was looking ahead because I wanted our fucking time apart to pass by quickly."

"I was in a state where I had to think of the present."

Troy shook his head in disbelief. In any other circumstance, his heart would have reached out to her after all, minus the deceit and heartache, he liked to think they had a good relationship in the past. He did feel a bit of guilt and pity for her plight but knowing that she didn't trust him enough to confide her problems to him, assuming at once he wouldn't care, that he will be a useless support system because he was miles away, added to his annoyance for her. "I don't know which is more shocking anymore . . . knowing that you didn't trust me then yet claimed to have loved me or seeing you right now as the fiancée of my wife's brother."

"I get it, okay? You hate me, want nothing to do with me and this fucked up scenario were in is a nightmare for you but for god's sake, Troy, will you please just listen to what I want to say?" Julie uttered, the timbre of her voice soft, self-effacing but there was also an unmistakable firmness in it that told Troy to grant her request.

His answer was to look at her with an irritated frown for several minutes. Whether he was trying to let her words sink in or weighing the merits of lingering in her presence too long, Julie waited while he most likely debated.

* * *

"I'm going to look for him." Chad announced quickly, feeling rather uneasy by the stares being cast his way. He opted for his eyes to settle on a confused looking Gabriella before reaffirming his words. "I will get him back."

She nodded almost imperceptively, unsure what to say or do.

Chad has no idea where to start searching but he'll say anything just to get out of the rut he inadvertently placed himself in. Turning his back to take a step away and start his search, he quickly scanned their surroundings, noting possible routes Troy might have taken while in his head he was continuously cursing his best friend for letting things go this way and Julie for messing everything up again.

But he halted his steps when Sharpay called out, "I'm coming with you!"

"No, Sharpay. I can manage—" He contradicted. His intention is to find Troy and kick his stupid ass for picking tonight to come back to L.A., among other things. He doesn't need another person to worry about. Besides, he's aware she's not feeling that great. It would be better for her and for him if she stayed with Gabriella and her brother.

He was about to suggest she and Paolo have that_ talk_ while they wait for Troy and Julie to return but Sharpay resolutely stated, "I'm coming with you, Chad." Then, she took a step to stand next to him.

"Pay, let him go. I'm taking you and Ella back to your apartment." Paolo suddenly cut in, grabbing onto her arm to pull her back. "If those two want to be found, they will be found." He added with a hard edge to his tone.

"You let me go!" Sharpay shouted at him, circling her free arm on Chad's, while yanking her other arm from Paolo's grasp with such force that Chad was fairly sure she either dislocated a joint or tore a ligament. "If you don't care where your girlfriend ran off to and why, not me, I want to know. I'm dying in curiosity!" She was jeering him. "I want to ask her why she would leave her fiancé and follow another woman's husband."

"We're all upset here, alright! He's the only one who knows." Paolo snapped back, pointing a finger at Chad who narrowed his eyes at him. "But I am trying to keep my temper in check. I don't want to do something I will regret later. So until we know what exactly is going on with those two, we're not doing anything."

Sharpay muttered something under her breath before saying, "Well, I am doing something. I want to get to know the woman who holds your heart. I want to know what she has that I don't. I'm curious to know what made you love her—" She turned her back to him expelling a strangled breath then she pulled Chad along, but after taking two steps she stopped and abruptly spun around looking directly into his eyes to ask for confirmation, "It is love, isn't it?"

"This is not the time to dwell on your annoyance for me because I suddenly introduced you to my girlfriend." Paolo said, his voice evident that his patience was wearing thin. "But since you insist on knowing, then yes, it is love. I love her, why do you think I proposed?"

She didn't expect to hear that sort of reply. It was a stab to the heart but Sharpay managed to keep the hurt from showing. Unconsciously, her hold on Chad's arm tightened as if drawing some strength in them. "Right . . . it's love all around. Oh the joy. And we can all see she loves you so much too . . . why else didn't she tell you about Troy?"

"Sharpay, you two should settle this before anything else." Chad interrupted, carefully untangling his arm from her grasp. "I'm gonna go . . . find Troy."

"We're finding them. There's nothing to settle . . . not anymore." She stated, but her eyes remained fixated on Paolo. "I'm not staying here with him."

"Let's find them." Gabriella's timid voice caused the three to look at her.

"No, we're leaving." Paolo countered firmly. "They left us here . . . just like that, Ella. They should come to us and explain. They owe us a great deal of explaining."

"Yes, they do but I'd rather hear it now than wait. I can't keep asking questions that I don't have answers to."

"Then you're making it so easy on him. Don't let him treat you like everything is just okay. Uncle did that after your mother died. Look where it ended. At this point, nothing is okay and don't forget, foremost, you don't have a stable foundation in your relationship with him."

"And you have a stable one with Julie?!" She scoffed, suddenly angered by the mention of her parents and the possibility that he could be right about the uncertainty of her relationship with Troy regardless of their mutual consent to extend the marriage more than five years. "You don't even know she has a past with my husband!"

Instead of joining another argument, Chad slowly slipped away hoping not to be noticed. But Sharpay did. She glared at him as he groaned inwardly and she quickly pulled him away from the siblings.

"Why do you insist on coming?" He asked a distance off. "If anyone has to whoop Troy's ass, it will be me. Not you."

"I want to see this Julie."

"Then what?"

"I will rearrange her face."

"On what grounds?"

Sharpay stopped mid step and half turned to face Chad. She crossed her arms over her chest, quirked a brow at him and gave him a pointed look.

Chad raised both arms in the air in mock surrender before saying, "Okay, rearrange all you want!"

"Can't wait." She dropped her arms and scanned the area. "So—where do we start looking?"

"No idea."

* * *

She took his silence as assent to go on and explain herself. She did so, choosing her words carefully. Her intention for explaining isn't to make him reconsider his feelings for her. It was something she needed to do because she owed it to him and she wanted to conciliate her guilt.

"_I'm not asking for forgiveness, Troy and I don't expect you to forgive me either but it will be better for both of us, if you know my side of the story."_

_How dare she show herself at this time and in this way! Why isn't fate working in his favor right now?_ He's the aggrieved party three years ago, for crying out loud! He shouldn't have to be in this situation. If not rewarded, he should be appeased at least. _Doesn't anyone get their facts straight anymore?_

"_I know it was wrong but I couldn't make myself tell him. I was afraid to lose him. He was a big help to me during my episode of depression."_

He could see her mouth opening and closing but he isn't really keen on listening. He had often wondered about her reasons, questioned her choice but now that she's relaying everything he wanted to know, he found he had lost interest. Her justification—it seems like it to him—are lame.

Will her explanation change anything? It won't rekindle his love for her and it certainly won't diminish his love for Gabriella. If anything, it even strengthened his feelings for his wife. He's been a lucky bastard from the time he married her . . . he knows this now. A little late but he's willing to make up for it.

Fate doesn't hate him like he thought. Fate rewarded him with Gabriella! She saved him in more ways than he can count.

There's really no point in all this now that he thinks about it more rationally.

"_I know I still loved you but I was no longer . . . in love with you." _She paused to warily look at him, thinking he'll burst out a reaction but when it seems like he had no desire to utter anything, she went on. "_I kept thinking of a . . . uhh, better way to tell you but every time we're together you are too preoccupied with planning the future that you failed to see there was already something different about me."_

Had things been different, he would be in an uproar right now over what she said but Troy found he is surprisingly unaffected by her words and opted instead to study Julie with detached interest while she did her best to sell her lame excuses to him.

"_He became so much a part of my life and we clicked almost instantly . . . I fell in love with him." _

She looks elegant in her white dress and she still has the same artless sophistication and beauty that had been part of her allure for him years ago. But it all stops there. At the moment, what he sees is just another pretty face, just another female in a nice dress. He already knows what kind of a person she really is underneath the appealing exterior and for that reason, her appeal is now lost on him.

So why on earth did he let himself still be affected by her? She cheated on him, hurt him and by her own admission, fell out of love for him but selfishly held on until she had secured another man.

Love had nothing to do with it, that's for sure. His love for her died way back—so by his speculation, it may be due to the fact that there were several questions behind their break up left unanswered—which, admittedly, was a mistake on his part. He should have allowed her efforts to explain years ago because possibly it would have given him closure.

Since he didn't, it became a long road of bitter feelings but seeing her and hearing her dismal explanation to make him understand or probably justify her actions, he realized it doesn't matter what her reasons were. He had wasted enough time and energy for something that's not even worth his attention. And even if she ends up marrying Paolo, which will be weird at first, in the long run, it won't affect him one bit.

He will not burden himself any longer of the negative emotions she evokes on him. He had already dwelled too much on the hurt he felt.

As he looked at her still talking, Troy couldn't help the smirk from appearing on his lips as he felt a wonderful kind of relief because . . . though it took him awhile to realize . . . he can honestly say, he's free of this woman. Finally!

And all along it's because of Gabriella.

His Gabi, his wife who has a heart stopping beauty coupled with a wonderful personality that charms even the most cynical soul and the right touch of sweetness and goodness that cured his distorted perception of love.

"Do you know why I hate you?" He asked rhetorically but with a silly little grin on his face, interrupting her diatribe. "Other than you cheating on me in the most spectacular way that you did, what I hated more was the fact that you continued to make me believe we had a future ahead of us. Turns out, I was holding on to a mirage. So yeah, you're right! I will never understand why you cheated or why you never told me your feelings have changed. " Troy did not sound pissed at all. He was quite in control of himself and his eyes seemed to have opened up to something he had previously been blinded to. "But the thing is, it doesn't matter anymore. What you did manage to do tonight was convince me of how selfish you really are, Julie." He stated with absolute sureness then with another chuckle he added, "And you know what . . . I cannot believe this is all I'm hearing from you. I expected something more convincing.

"Troy—"

"Chad is right. It was stupid of me to keep comparing Gabriella to you . . . there's nothing to compare. You don't even come close! When we were together, you had my love, my trust and my hopes but that wasn't enough for you. You still chose to deceive me." Troy slowly averred which came off like he was lecturing such a self centered person. "Pardon me for not appreciating your reasons, Julie. You see, Gabriella . . . she didn't have any of that. I treated her unkindly. I was at my worst behavior but even so, she accepted me wholly, chose to love me—arrogance, nasty attitude and all."

"I'm sorry."

He raised a hand to stop her from speaking any further, the resentment, the previously nurtured hurt and the shock of seeing her, all shoved aside. "Don't bother. I don't care if you love Paolo or not. I don't care what your plans are. I don't care what you intend do after. I'm done with this baggage." Strangely, he smiled and his entire face was suddenly enlivened with what can only be called as liberation. "Took me years to realize but you did me a huge favor. I wouldn't have a life with Gabriella if you didn't dump me. So—thank you, Julie!" In a voluntary gesture, Troy reached a hand forward and patted her shoulder like guys do to other guys when they're wishing them luck. It can be called a chummy gesture—if she were a guy.

Before walking past her, he said, "Now, excuse me, I'm going back to my wife."

On a run back to the restaurant, Troy's mind was on overdrive. He felt happy and worried all at once so much so that he couldn't wait to have his time alone with Gabriella. The desire to tell her he loves her is even more compelling after that talk with Julie but before he can do that he knows he has some major explaining to do. Hopefully the damage will not be too difficult to rectify . . . but on the off chance that it is, he's willing to do anything to woo back her trust in him.

* * *

Paolo pressed his lips into a thin line, heaved a sigh and carelessly ran a hand through his short dark hair. "Look, Ella, I'm sorry." He amended. He could see the confusion and the beginnings of hurt in her eyes because of what her husband and Julie did. It was wrong of him to add to her wariness. "Tonight was supposed to be a pleasant night . . ."

Briefly closing her eyes, she nodded at the apology, feeling suddenly weary. The past days hasn't exactly been easy or restful for her and it had nothing to do with her work but more with Troy being absent. She had been looking forward to his return but the glee she felt earlier upon seeing him became short lived.

_What if he doesn't say it back?_ Sharpay's words echoed in her brain out of nowhere. She doesn't want to think about it but the possibility is becoming more and more likely given the events that took place. She may have been distracted with Sharpay's well being earlier but she wasn't blind to how beautiful Julie is.

Any woman will feel insecure in her presence and especially with what's happening now, she's never felt so insecure.

Troy has a past with her and with the kind of reaction he did, she doesn't need confirmation to know just how deep that past is. The question in her head right now isn't so much about their past but rather on what will happen after tonight. Will that past remain a past or will it have a new future?

She's torn between wanting to know and not knowing, however stupid that position may be. She's dying in curiosity but if the outcome will have her heartbroken, then maybe she's better off in the dark. She's had enough heartaches to last her a lifetime.

The sad part is . . . Paolo and herself are on the waiting end of the stick and they can't do anything about it.

"Why do you look like you've been in a similar situation before . . . this?" She asked as it occurred to her that Paolo seems less confused than she is. He's taking the situation better than she expected from a man who had just seen his fiancé run after another man.

"Because I remembered something . . . the first time I proposed to her. She had acted weird after coming back from Albuquerque. We broke it off a few months after that." He said with a disbelieving shake of the head as he slowly pieced the puzzles together. "Troy is from Albuquerque too, isn't he?"

Stunned, Gabriella's eyes grew wide before melancholy cast over them and she dropped her gaze low to stare on the ground she was standing on. _Good things versus the bad._ She thought despondently. She had been wallowing in the good things for quite some time now . . . knowing her luck in personal relationships, the bad thing, of course, just came crashing down on her. It was unexpected but, if she weren't part of this debacle, she would have applauded the ingenuity of it.

But no, she was in it and she was hurting already. "Yes." She hoarsely replied, surprised that she could even speak.

"Ella . . . let's go." Paolo said which interrupted her thoughts. She lifted her head to see him holding out a hand for her to take.

Looking further up from his out stretched hand to his face, Gabriella saw frustration, regret and some form of anger in his eyes but there was also an offering of both strength and comfort—brotherly comfort—which at this time, she realized she desperately needed.

With the slightest hint of a smile, she took a couple of steps closer to Paolo and gently leaned against him. She felt his arms close around her in a hug and the soft whisper of, "It's gonna be alright."

She was a young girl again with her big brother making certain she won't get hurt.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! Yeah its been awhile, I should probably start ducking just in case something is thrown at me. Lol! **I'm very very sorry for the delay.** I was on vacation which in my opinion, is well deserved, so I took full advantage of it. Well, anyway, after much thinking, debating with myself, I came up with this. I had this chapter written before I went on vacay but the pace I was writing this was really slow and since I was busy, I kinda set this aside until I've had my rest.

Again, not quite a happy chapter but we're getting there. ;-)

Thank you to everyone of my readers and especially to my awesome reviewers. I cannot say it enough . . . You are all awesome!


	26. Chapter 26 Tussle

Chapter 26

_Disclaimer: This story is a product of my over active imagination which makes it mine. The rest is owned by the company that created the famous Mouse. _

* * *

"She cheated on you then dumped you. Oh boohoo!" Sharpay derided as she paced from left to right in front of Troy who was currently seated on a deep pink feathery thing that was referred to as a couch in her apartment.

The blonde had worked up quite an annoyance for him after she and Chad found him en route from the parking space where he and Julie had their talk. He had ignored her outburst for the most part as they walked back to the vicinity of the restaurant only to find Gabriella and Paolo gone. The valet telling them that Mrs. Bolton had left with a male companion who drove her car. And much as they tried calling the siblings, their respective phones were off.

In Sharpay fashion, she demanded from him an explanation for the _ridiculous, totally uncalled for and possibly the most stupid thing to do in front of your wife and her brother_—her exact words just four hours ago, Troy recalled vividly—and even went as far as threatening to castrate him if he doesn't tell her everything.

So he did. Rather, Chad did in detail, with his permission of course, since he found it an utter waste of time to recount the past events in his life that prompted the stupid behavior he displayed, when he should focus his wits and efforts into finding Gabriella and try not to linger too much on the scary thought that she might have just decided to leave him.

While his bestfriend narrated his tale to Sharpay, he called the mansion using Chad's phone hoping to press his luck and receive word that Gabriella is actually at their house waiting for him. It was quite a stretch and as expected, it is because aside from the butler telling him she isn't there, his cousins, especially Chloe, expressed their not so kind opinion of him for being an inconsiderate jerk and hurting Gabriella in the process.

Then, after Sharpay had learned about his past with Julie, she calmly stared at him for long, long minutes to the point where he was feeling quite uneasy under her scrutiny. She didn't say a word to him (which he would later realize that her silence meant she was not only saving her energy but analyzing him as well), instead, with an irritated look, she scrolled on her phone and began to call people who were friends and co workers of Gabriella, chatting up each of them like she would on any ordinary day before she would casually ask of her best friend's whereabouts.

With such concentration she went on with the task, not once dampened by the negative answers she gets from every person she called. She diligently did it while Troy, angry with himself for unintentionally leaving his phone in the mansion in his haste to see Gabriella earlier, and Chad, quite amazed by the systematic way she was handling everything like she has a vast experience finding missing persons, watched like incompetent idiots.

Disappointedly, the calls Sharpay made did not get any positive result. But undeterred, her eyes took on an interesting glint when she deduced Gabriella would most likely be in the studio or if not, upon her recollection, probably in her apartment since Paolo had apparently wanted to take them back there earlier.

Since Troy was more than willing to pursue anything just to find Gabriella and any smart idea as to where his wife could be at that moment seems to elude his usually sharp mind, he took Sharpay with him while Chad drove in his own car—a wiser decision in his opinion—driving like a lunatic to get to the studio and, when they didn't find Gabriella there, speeding to her apartment in the soonest possible time not just to see his wife at once but to stop Sharpay's incessant nagging that began as soon as she clipped the lock on her seatbelt.

He was wrong though because Sharpay did not cease to lecture him on his rash, completely thoughtless behavior earlier in the night—she never passed any chance to remind him how utterly stupid he is. She was so worked up on her sarcastic speech for him that even when Chad showed up in her abode a few minutes later and went straight to her kitchen—obviously to find food, she barely paid him any mind.

Troy would have reasoned back, defended his stupidity but as much as he hated to give the blonde her moment of enjoyment in chastising him . . . he admits, her irritation for him is well founded. So he merely sat there half listening, half thinking and fervently hoping that Gabriella would not act solely on impulse and give him a chance to explain.

"I feel for you, Bolton. Believe me, I do." Sharpay dramatized, her face resembling a pitying look then her eyes narrowed on him once again. "But tell me, how long ago was that? Coz' if this cheating happened around the time you hit puberty," It was hard not to miss the threat in her tone even before she said, "I will claw your guts out and sell it on Ebay."

Probably borne out of fear or worry that among other things that were obvious, she also has a fetish for human organs and would really go to such grotesque lengths out of annoyance for him, Troy found himself obligated to answer. "College."

She blew off an unladylike snort, stopped pacing and rolled her eyes to show her disapproval or maybe dismay. "Your excusable period, as the party that got cheated on, for feeling hurt, betrayed or whatever has lapsed a long time ago. Right now, your inappropriate behavior is no longer excused! Move the hell on! What's with you holding this grudge for so long?! Don't you find it exhausting?!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her gaze at him and added, "You-you—God! You annoy me so much right now. I'm not feeling fabulous, just to let you know. I was so looking forward to weltering in my own misery—which frankly speaking, I am entitled to because the freaking love of my life introduced me to his fiancé!"

Surprised about that little detail regarding Paolo, Troy slouched further into the couch. He could not think of anything to say to her. Not even a sympathetic word for her feelings or a smart retort or an excuse to save himself from all the valid points she was saying. Because, as he realized during his talk with Julie, there's no justification for the way he had prolonged this ill will. It did not do him any good and it certainly didn't help with what could have been a memorable night with Gabriella.

Plain and simple. He was stupid. And it's this kind of stupidity that bugs people out, even himself.

"Look, I'm no Dr. Phil obviously but—is it possible that your reason for nurturing this stupid hurt is because for the first time in your stellar life you got dumped by a girl?" Sharpay speculated further, her tone steady on the exasperated scale. "Something no one expected, not even you, because hey, you're _the_ Troy Bolton!" She uncrossed her arms to make air quotes as she mentioned his name. "Ever since you grew adolescent hair, you've lived with the fact that every girl will fall for your charms and whatnot and because of this, you can't imagine anyone not wanting to be with you. The idea, to you, is simply preposterous! This Julie, not that I condone what she did coz' I'm no fan of cheaters either, but she is the first and only girl to break that streak you have going for years."

"So the arrogance plus the hurt went into a nasty, cynical . . . whorish mode, to prove to this girl you can have any female you want at the same time you want to forget the hurt instead of dealing with it the normal and mature way." She elaborated. "How am I doing so far, Bolton?"

"I'd say pretty accurate . . . but that's just my opinion." Chad suddenly butted in—mouth full of food while strutting towards another couch right across from Troy—like he's very at home in the apartment, as he came out from the kitchen carrying a plate filled with about three types of food.

Sharpay no more than gave him a cursory glance before swinging her vision back at Troy who had a slight feeling that his best friend had something to do with her summation of what caused his not so wise behavior. "And I apparently gave you more credit than I should have, Bolton. Now, I don't know . . ." She trailed off briefly with a disappointed shake of the head. ". . . what made Gabriella love you but she does and I can only imagine what she's thinking after you just ran off."

That's what Troy was worried about too. In his head, despite Sharpay's unending tirade, he was begging to whatever imaginary being is out there to please, _please_ give him another chance to be able to show Gabriella just how much she means to him. He just wants to see her. Even if she throws a fit or throws any heavy object at him, he'll take it so long as she's physically present. Because, at least if she's there, it means she did not completely shut him off . . . yet.

God, he hates himself with a passion!

"Bolton! Thousands of people die everyday from poverty and you sit there shaking your head!" Sharpay's high pitched voice snapped him out of his thoughts, making him raise his lolling head with a confused look as he noted the pinched expression on her face, hands on her hips in a challenging stance. He has no idea how the world's poverty rate is even remotely related to the reason for her rants. "This is the part where your eyes grow wide as saucers, your mouth drops in surprise and after a moment to gather your wits at the startling information which I so generously provided, you ask me in a disbelieving tone, s_he loves me?!"_

"I know." He groaned, his hands threading through his head and nearly pulling a fistful of hair.

"I am disappointed, Bolton, just so you know."

"I know."

"Makes me wonder why you were so happy when you told us you two are gonna stay married past five years . . ."

"I know . . . she loves me." He clarified in a low voice, as if he's almost ashamed to admit what he knew after what he just did.

"And to think I was actually convinced you felt the same way—wait, you know?"

"Yes."

"So you flew back to—"

He met her gaze and rejoined without hesitation, "To tell her I feel the same way."

"Oh." Sharpay uttered slightly flabbergasted. She had an inkling that Troy also feels something for Gabriella but as to how deep these feelings run, she has yet to decide. But as her hands dropped to her sides when she straightened, she was quite surprised to see the honesty in his eyes and the defeated posture he exuded sitting there in her couch.

"You love her too." She whispered broodingly. Troy nodded.

"Great." Chad said, his mouth still stuffed with food. "Now you say this. It's a little late, don't you think?"

"It's not late!" Troy contradicted with force but he's convincing himself more than he was telling Chad.

"Whatever, man." Chad retorted before standing up to trudge back to the kitchen.

"Hey! Who told you to eat my food, Danforth?!" Sharpay suddenly shrieked, following after Chad as if she just realized her kitchen had been invaded.

"I'm hungry! I'm so hungry that when I look at you I don't see you, I see a piece of pepperoni—a thin piece but when you're as starved as I am, everything looks tasty. That's how hungry I am."

"Pepperoni?! I don't look or smell like a freaking pepperoni!— and you can't just go prowling in other people's apartment for food!"

"I just did. Sue me." Chad uttered nonchalantly. "Evans, if you're hungry then eat . . . just let me eat in peace. Tonight's fiasco made me miss dinner. It's never good for my state of mind to miss a meal. So chill and eat."

Troy sighed from his spot on the couch as the two argued amidst the distant sounds of dinnerware being taken out from cabinets or drawers and being laid on the kitchen counter or table. Resting his nape on the backrest of the couch, he looked up at Sharpay's ceiling and drowned out the already garbled voices coming from the kitchen. Everything went so horribly wrong when it could have gone so right. He could have been in his own house, in his room with Gabriella enjoying and celebrating their marriage and their newfound love, instead he's here in Sharpay's place, the recipient of her sermons and worrying sick about the possible outcome of tonight's events for his married life.

If there's anyone to blame for this ugly turn, it's him . . . not Julie. Even if she's the reason for his fucked up state of mind, it's entirely his fault for letting his life revolve around the wrong she did to him. He held back on his emotions because of it. He restricted the good things that he could have experienced because of it. And more importantly, he might have just squandered the happiness he found with Gabriella because of it.

He cannot hate himself any more than he does right now. No, not even Sharpay's anger or Chad's irritation can level up to it.

_God, his family will hate him too. _If Chloe, Brad's or Adam's reaction earlier is anything to go by, the worse is yet to come once the rest of the family learns about this._ There's no doubt about it. _His grandfather will probably really ship him to military school now or worse, will not even think twice disowning him.

_Stupid, stupid!_

He was too caught up in his self loathing that he failed to hear the soft ding of the elevator doors as it opened to allow another person to step into the apartment. It wasn't until that person's familiar voice spoke that Troy jolted upright from his drooped position in the couch to look past the person who arrived in hopes of seeing Gabriella's familiar form.

"Didn't expect to see you here Bolton." Paolo drawled as he eyed Troy somewhat smugly and with only a hint of surprise finding him in Sharpay's abode.

"Where's my wife?" Troy asked at once.

"Is that what she is? I thought she's your business partner . . . one you can just ditch when you feel like it."

Choosing to overlook the derision, reminding himself that apart from being a concerned and protective brother, he is also the only person who knows where Gabriella is. In this instance, it's a wiser choice not to butt heads with him. Troy let the insolence pass but demanded again in what he thought was a reasonable tone, "Tell me where she is."

Paolo chuckled crudely. "What for? To explain? Come on, Bolton, we all know your marriage to my sister was arranged. No need to trouble yourself with an explanation. You do your thing and she will do hers."

Knowing that he was being goaded, Troy forced to keep calm and collected when he spoke. "Paolo," He began. "Regardless of the terms of my marriage to Gabi, whichever way you see it, she's still my wife—"

"Yeah, she's a wife alright. You claimed her legally and physically." Paolo spat, walking closer to Troy with an antagonistic face. "I never did approve of you, Bolton. I had absolutely no reason to and Marissa choosing you didn't help any to sway my head differently. But for my sister's sake, since she seemed determined to stick by you for the length of that fucking arrangement, I told myself to give you a chance . . ." He laughed without humor. "But we all know what happened to that chance, don't we?"

"You're annoyed, angry—furious even. So insult me all you want! I fucking deserve it." Troy clamored. He felt overwhelmed with impatience and frustration since it seems like getting information from Paolo will be like pulling teeth. "Just tell me where Gabi is."

"What makes you think she wants to see you?!"

"Maybe she doesn't . . ."

"And rightly so!" Paolo cut him off. "She never was a good judge of character especially with the men in her life."

"Doesn't mean you have to influence her decision or make her doubt what her instincts tell her!" Troy retorted accusingly, his earlier resolve to stay calm no matter how much taunting he gets flying out of his mind in seconds. "She's a grown woman. She's smart enough to decide in her best interest. Don't insult her intelligence. And don't forget, she's also my wife. You have no right to keep her from me."

"Like you have no right to hurt her!" Paolo quickly threw back at him with a disdainful look down Troy's head to toe length. "She doesn't deserve you, Bolton, so if you're thinking I will tell you where she is . . . you're dead wrong."

The hands hanging idly on his sides clenched into fists as Troy strived to control himself from taking a jab at Paolo. "And because you think I don't deserve her, it's your duty to look for someone who does? You're not her fairy godmother! What goes on between me and Gabi is none of you goddamn business!"

"You're absolutely right. But you made it my business when you ditched her after seeing Julie."

"I don't care about Julie! She's all yours! And if there's anyone I have to explain to, it's certainly not you . . . it's Gabi."

Paolo merely snorted, his stance both impertinent and supercilious, letting Troy know he didn't give a cent whatever he's saying.

He was gloating, that was very obvious to Troy. The knowledge of where Gabi is gave him every right gloat and he sensed that Paolo was doing this on purpose to piss him off. But he still held on to that very thin thread of rationality for the sake of Gabriella. "Where is she?"

"In a place where she feels safe."

"Where is my wife?" He persisted.

"Get it through your thick skull, Bolton. I am not telling you." Paolo hissed. "We may not know of your past but it was clear to us when you ran off how much Julie still affects you. Even a person with half a brain would have seen that!"

"It's none of your business what I want to do! Tell me where she is!"

"I can't do anything to whatever voodoo you cleverly cast on my sister to make her feel something for you . . . but don't expect me to hand her to you like an offering. While you fled and chit chatted with Julie, the person you refer to as your wife looked so lost, insecure, ashamed and betrayed. The last time she looked like that was when her father died and she learned she was being arranged to marry a complete stranger—you!" He pointed a finger at Troy, his earlier composure also slipping away. "So put yourself in my shoe Bolton, and tell me . . . would you give Gabriella to an asshole like you—"

The bit of info about how Gabriella took his leaving made the anger and frustration inside him, directed mostly at himself and at Paolo, coupled with a sense of foreboding, crawl up his skin, collided with his heart and settled in his brain just as the word asshole escaped Paolo's lips, causing Troy to let go of the control he was desperately clinging to. He threw a punch at Paolo, cutting short his angry outburst, momentarily shocking him as Troy's fist connected with the side of his face and as soon as he recovered answered the punch with one of his own.

Then all hell broke loose.

Sharpay came rushing in from the kitchen, with Chad right on her tail, to investigate what the sudden commotion was about. Thinking Troy had gone berserk because of his stupidity, she was ready to deliver yet another tirade at him for disturbing her very late dinner. But she found herself dumbfounded when she saw the two grown men in her living room throwing punches and cuss words at each other like they both seriously contemplated one should live and the other should definitely die.

And based on the _omphs_, the thwacks, the grunts, the groans and the bone cracking sounds she's hearing, it will most likely be the case when it ends . . .

Chad rushed past Sharpay's frozen form to stand between the two butting heads. "Stop it!" He shouted to both, alternately pushing them apart on opposite sides of the room which was a useless effort as Troy and Paolo kept seeking each other out, neither one planning to back down. "Sharpay! A little help would be nice!"

"No way!" She squeaked, snapping out of her shock. "I don't plan on getting caught in a stupid wrestling match!"

"Not the best time to be a diva, Sharpay." Chad grumbled as he continued to separate the two guys and at the same time dodge a wayward jab from either one. "I will restrain Troy . . . pull him back . . ." He shoved Paolo off his side in Sharpay's direction. "Now!"

"Paolo stop!" She shouted while trying to hold down his arms and nudge him backwards with all her might—which was nothing compared to him.

"Troy! Let it go!"

"Shit…"

"Ouch!"

"My couch! Oh, you will pay for that . . . dammmit!"

"Watch it!"

"Son of –"

"Had enough?"

"Bring it on!"

"Ah, fuck you both!"

"I'm calling security and have you two arrested!"

"Stop it!"

"Watch the table! Watch the table—aarrgh!"

Red with fury over Troy and Paolo's manly display of dislike for one another and the fact that her precious furniture is one by one becoming collateral damage to their physical exertion of force, a fed up Sharpay grabbed a large vase beautifully painted with Chinese art and purposely threw it in the center of the room.

It landed with a loud crash, breaking into uneven pieces and scattering in several directions from the impact. So much for the expensive vase but it did pause the tussling match that was happening on her carpeted floor between Troy and Paolo and an unfortunate Chad who got caught in the middle of the disputing pair.

"Christ! I think I broke a rib." Chad groaned from under Paolo and Troy. He has no idea how he ended up under them. "Get off me you dumbasses!" He pushed against the weight pinning him down while Sharpay assisted to pull him upright. "This is the worst night of my life! I will charge you both for my medical bills—with interest for emotional distress!"

"Not only that. You jerks will be billed for all the damaged furniture in here!" Sharpay added with much feeling, shooting dagger gazes at the two.

As they scrambled to stand, Troy gave a long glare to Paolo who did the same to him then he limped to the couch he sat on before their riot occurred. He winced with every sudden or speedy movement . . . he surmised, Chad may not be the only one with a broken rib. He tasted blood from what he assumed was a cut on his lower lip; one side of his face and his knuckles hurt like hell but it gave him a sense of satisfaction when he saw Paolo in the same bruised and swollen condition as himself.

As Sharpay expressed her consternation and anger over their childish behavior and for thrashing her living room, Troy's heavy intake of air evened out along with most of his anger and he addressed the same query to Paolo once more. "Where is she?"

"Why do you still insist?" Paolo replied, his tone slowly calming down. "I will not tell you . . . give it up. Let her be."

"No!"

"Why?"

"Shut the hell up!" Sharpay shouted. "Take it somewhere else. Go to an arena . . . a gym, a fight club. I don't care! Just get the hell out of my apartment!"

But she was ignored as Troy answered Paolo in a hoarse but unyielding voice, "Because I love her . . . and I don't plan on letting her go."

Startled by the unexpected admission coming from his sister's husband, Paolo did not utter an immediate come back. He stared at Troy with a slightly astonished but pondering frown. With a face that gave away nothing, he assessed the man his sister admits to have fallen in love with remembering his earlier conversation with Gabriella regarding Troy.

"_Are you sure?" If the question and tone itself failed to express his doubt, the look on his face was a clear mask of skepticism. _

"_Yes."_

"_Proximity is not love, Gabriella. It may seem like it now but a few years more and you'll realize it's just the result of living together in one roof and sharing the same bed."_

"_No, it's not like that at all, Paolo. I know it isn't." She maintained, smiling serenely which unnerved him a little bit. _

_He expected her to cry but after leaving the restaurant, then driving around in silence and with no particular destination in mind, they found themselves seated on cold sand and staring out the darkness of the beach, each to their own thought . . . he heard her sigh some time later then she whispered, "I love him."_

_He knew it was also one way of telling him that despite what happened, despite what her husband did and despite her knowing about the past with Julie, she still hopes that maybe it's only a momentary lapse of judgment on Troy's part. _

"_How?!" He clipped as he shot her an irate sideways glance._

"_He asked me to stay married to him past five years."_

"_That's not a good enough reason."_

"_Paolo, do you love Julie? Even after all this."_

_Surprised by her question, he simply nodded._

"_Why . . . what made you fall for her?"_

"_She compliments me." He answered after a long silence. "Does he compliment you too? Are you two even compatible?"_

_She smiled. "I think we are but it's not just that. He makes me happy. I don't know how to explain it to you and you probably will think it's silly but . . . it's, it's the little things he does . . ." She trailed off as if her thought drifted back to the times when Troy did those little things she was referring to._

_He may not agree with her but after what happened with Julie chasing Troy, who is he to question how she feels? __He heaved a sigh and asked, "You're going back to him? You're not even sure he feels the same for you, Ella."_

"_No. You're right about one thing, Paolo. He should find me and explain. As his wife, he owes me that." She reasoned, surprising him yet again and somewhat pleasing him for taking into consideration his advice. "So, I'm going home."_

"_Home?—Which home?"_

_She told him and although he didn't want to let her go, she was firm in her decision and no amount of swaying to do otherwise or consider other choices could change her mind. _

_In the end, he gave in and let her go. Yet, fervently, he hoped the faith she placed on her husband will not be in vain. Or he will personally make sure Troy Bolton will regret ever hurting his sister._

Comparing Gabriella's relationship with Troy to what he had in years invested with Julie, he had to admit the two managed to surpise him earlier when he witnessed their rather poignant reunion and liplock in the restaurant. And after what occurred tonight, he couldn't help but ask, is his relationship with Julie more stable than what his sister has with Troy? He was no longer certain.

Yes, Gabriella didn't know about Troy's past but entering into an arranged marriage with someone you hardly know, would you expect him to recount his past that easily?

As he thinks about it, although out of protectiveness he labels Troy quite the prick for letting his sister feel insecure and uncertain, he can't say he expects much from the guy what with the kind of marriage he was thrust into. He can even say that his reaction, under the circumstances, was normal. Whereas, Julie's actions weren't . . . and they are the ones with the longer relationship that went through the normal process of development.

Paolo smirked at the unexpected confession of love from Troy but was quickly turned into a wince because of the swelling of his face. He cursed quietly, carefully rubbing a hand over the swollen skin, then he instructed him, "Go home, Troy." A part of him felt relieved that his sister made the right decision.

"Not until you tell me where she is . . . please."

He shook his head. "If you really love her like you say, you should know where to find her."

"That's it!" Sharpay interrupted again, flailing both arms in the air out of frustration. "Enough chatter. I want you out! You," She jabbed a finger at Troy's chest. "Get your ass out of here and go find Gabriella." Then she whirled around to face Paolo, thoroughly annoyed. "And you—I don't want to see you or talk to you ever again! Get the hell out!"

"No. I came here to talk to you." And without waiting for Sharpay's protest, Paolo grabbed her by the arm and forcibly dragged her towards the direction of her room, promptly shutting the door as soon as they were inside.

Troy turned to Chad. "Can you manage to drive?"

"Screw you, Bolton.

* * *

A/N: Man, was this tough to get out. A little FYI, There are a few more chapters left then this story will come to a close. And hopefully the next chapter will be a happy one. ;-)

**Thanks so much for reviewing . . . means a lot to me. I cannot say it enough, YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!** Oh to **canada4ever** - I love your review. I mean, you wrote the same things that were going thru my mind when I thought of writing this story. I was amazed, hahaha! But, thank you.


	27. Chapter 27 Revealed

Chapter 27

_**Disclaimer**_:_ Except for this plot . . . don't own anything but I keep wishing._

* * *

The days that followed stretched into a week and for the most part Troy had spent it in the farm as he was ordered by his father and grandfather—who were nothing short of disappointed in him for the callous way he had treated Gabriella because of Julie—to go back and finish his stay there.

It was supposed to be a short stay, not lasting more than two days, but whether punishment for his inappropriate behavior towards his wife or just mere coincidence, a labor dispute that he belatedly learned had been brewing for some time happened the day he was scheduled to leave.

Given no choice and being one of the owners, he deferred his departure to settle the disputing parties and help them come to an amicable agreement.

It was long, tedious and immensely exhausting on his part and especially because deep inside, the longer he stayed in the farm and unable to go about finding Gabriella, he began to feel the deepest despair he had ever known . . . deeper than that he'd suffered when he learned Julie engaged herself to another man.

Then, he had Julie to lay fault on. It was her who did him wrong therefore his anger and irrational behavior was justified. Now . . . he had no one to blame but himself. And what pains him the most is that he hurt the one person who treated him with honesty, accepted his imperfections and loved him despite the odds.

He was a sorry excuse for a man. He deserves the anguish and the sense of loss and the ache in his heart he is suffering for days now and he couldn't do anything to relieve his misery.

Gabriella is the only one who can get him out of his desolation.

He is unworthy of her love but at the same time he longs for it. He wants to hear her say I love you and he wants to say the same three words back.

He'd give anything for a chance to say it to her.

But to do that he must first figure out what home she's referring to when she told Paolo she's going home. Yes, the Italian guy somehow took pity on him and told him of Gabriella's plan. He had been ecstatic after being told of it but he was so stupid to think it would be that easy. Because _Home,_ as it turns out, wasn't their house. It isn't Gabriella's parent's house nor is it a friend's house or even a new house she acquired without his knowledge.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what home she was saying to Paolo or if it's even a home. And of course, there's the possibility that Paolo gave him false information to keep him from finding where his sister really is.

_You did this to yourself._ The lonely voice in his head repeatedly said.

And he can't really argue because it's true.

He was ashamed of himself but the need to find her would always prevail even when he was in the middle of solving the labor problems in the farm.

Everyday he would call her phone. Never mind that he got so frustrated always getting her voicemail—which he did not leave messages on because what he will say to her needs to be said in person.

Still he'd call without fail.

Sometimes he would even call the studio on the off chance that he'd get lucky and be able to let her know that he needs to see her, that they need to talk in person, that he's asking for a chance to apologize and be heard . . . but after giving a somewhat plausible excuse to the people there as to why he knew nothing about Gabriella's whereabouts without seeming like an ass who misplaced his wife, he received news—albeit reluctantly told—from Gabriella's assistant that his wife took an indefinite leave of absence, it became clear that luck wasn't on his side.

Sharpay was another option he took a chance on. She conveyed she was annoyed with him and had narrated several reasons to warrant such annoyance when he talked to her. Yet, he still pleaded his case, appealed to the kindness of her heart to ease a friend of worry and heartache.

But she answered with, _"She could be anywhere. She may be off at some rainforest snapping shots at a hot male model posed suggestively against a tree. Or she could be in a remote, hard-to-pronounce-name village painting a tribal flame on the incredibly defined abs of a half naked male model. In short, Bolton, I don't know where she is. She didn't tell me when she called the other day and I didn't ask. If you really love her, you can find her."_

And his heart sank even further.

He lived with the fear that he would find her having decided she didn't want to invest any more time and energy and emotion on a man who held on to the past and couldn't be honest with her at the very least. If only he'd been more reasonable, wiser . . .

If he could wish for any power right now, he'd wish for the power to turn back time.

_If. So many if's_. He thought angrily as he looked out the window of the moving car that picked him up at Albuquerque's international airport. The driver had been instructed by his father to pick him up and bring him directly to the Bolton's estate. He had no doubt, despite the long delay the problem in the farm caused, he will receive the full wrath of his grandfather and his parents once he gets there and it will not concern business but of Gabriella.

_After the way you treated Gabriella? They have every right to be mad at you. They love her!_ The voice in his head taunted him.

_I will find her. I have to find her._

* * *

When the car stopped and he slowly dragged himself inside the stately home he grew up in, as expected, the unfriendly faces of his parents and his grandfather met him at the foyer.

He was so tired from the work in the farm, the travel and the thinking coupled with the worry that he had no strength to even utter anything. His concern at the moment was to get this over with as quickly as possible and once he gets a few hours rest, he'll fly back to L.A. and take it upon himself to search for Gabriella.

Selfish it may sound but he's counting on her feelings for him to not make any drastic decisions until they can see each other and clarify things between them. He's counting on her feelings to believe in him, to give him allowances for his shortcomings and give him a chance to prove himself worthy be her husband not just legally but emotionally.

It's all he can hold on to . . . or he will go crazy with all the unwelcome and depressing and scary thoughts assaulting his mind if by chance Gabriella changes her mind about him.

Troy stood in front of his family after carelessly dropping his backpack on the floor and faced them, ready to receive the verbal blows. And they didn't waste any second expressing their disappointment over the way he handled his personal affair.

His father went first, his words carefully controlled. "You are too old to be given a lecture about your own life. You had all the chance to grow up so I don't understand how for so long you never stopped blaming the rest of the female population for one girl's transgressions! I expected more from you, Troy. I hope you realize the mistake you did could cost you a lot more than you can imagine—and I'm not talking about the business dealings we have with Gabriella's family."

"Regardless if you think you've grown up or not." Patrick spoke next, his voice holding a sharp edge of ire and Troy noted he unconsciously tapped his cane on the shiny floors after each word. "The point is you acted damned immature when you traipsed off the restaurant like Julie has some kind of disease that only you can be infected with, leaving your wife wondering why you suddenly sprinted away and left her there! Did it even cross your mind that she might be going crazy trying to understand why you did that?"

"Not at first." Troy answered wearily.

"Are you even sorry—"

"Yes! I am sorry. I will forever be sorry for letting her be in that predicament, for hurting her." Troy shouted, frustration evident on his face as he harshly ran a hand through his messy hair. He wasn't angry at them. The anger has been self directed ever since this started. "I made the mistake. I know that. I admit it! I'm sorry to disappoint all of you."

There was a moment of silence. His mother slowly shaking her head at him, then Jack said, "Knowing your mistake doesn't make it right."

"For heaven's sake, Troy," His grandfather sighed heavily, his tone somewhat tempered considerably. "You should be thankful that even when you and Julie didn't end well, for once in your life you got the chance to love someone with all your heart. And for you to have another chance at a love like that is an immense blessing already. Not many people get the chance that you have."

"Do I . . ." Troy paused, drew a deep breath as the words struck him like his grandfather was giving him hope, then he continued. "Do you really think I still have that chance with Gabi after a week of not hearing from her or knowing where she is? Because, Grandpa . . . Dad, Mom, I drove myself up the wall trying to think where she might be or if anytime now she suddenly decides to give up on me. Just . . . I have to find her! I can't stand waking up everyday and not know where she is, what she's doing or if she's also thinking about me!"

"If she does, will you give up too?" Alicia asked expressionlessly, looking straight into his eyes.

"No!"

His mother remained where she was a full minute, never taking her eyes off him, then she stepped forward to envelope him in a tight hug.

Thunderstruck by the sudden gesture, Troy was unsure how to react at first but the gentle embrace did somehow lessen the tension and the tiredness in him and he realized how much he needed an act of kindness shown to him after several depressing days. It also bolstered his determination even before Alicia angled her face slightly to whisper to his ear. "Don't ruin your chance this time, Troy. It's the last you'll get."

He pushed off a little to look at her, frowning. And when her mother let him go with a soft pat to his chest, he raised his vision to his father and grandfather who bore no traces of their earlier anger, instead they were nodding slowly at what his mother said.

"You know where she is?" Troy asked. Inexplicably, his insides felt like it was beginning to get jumpy and his pulse was slowly picking up pace.

Alicia smiled. "Go to her. She's in the sunroom."

As the import of his mother's words slammed into his head, Troy was stunned at first, then agitation and stuttering words. "She's—she . . . here? I . . . how long . . . you didn't—tell me—"

"Try not to stutter when you talk to her." Patrick advised gravely. He was being helpful—at least he thinks so.

"She doesn't know you're coming. She asked us not to let you know she's staying here." Alicia added as some sort of forewarning. "She believed you'll figure out where she is . . . I did too but sadly we were wrong because you weren't thinking."

Troy was so dazed by the outcome of his day which he was so sure would end badly like the previous days before since Gabriella's disappearance that he stood frozen on the spot.

_Home. Home!_ Screamed the voice.

_My family is your family too. _He told her once and she had thanked him for giving her a family.

_In his absence, this is home for her._ He closed his eyes to calm his rioting thoughts. How much more stupid can he be?

"Don't waste your time." Jack jolted him out of his internal battle and waved a hand in the direction of the sunroom.

He released the breath he had been holding and quickly dashed through the house with only one purpose in mind.

* * *

Stepping through the open doors of the sunroom, Troy paused a moment to calm his nerves and the racing of his pulse with a combination of relief and dread. He has no idea how she'll react to his presence. He has no clue what he will say to her or how he should start making amends for hurting her.

But now is not the time for hesitations, what's important is seeing her and having this chance to remedy the unsavory situation he created between them.

Quickly scanning the room which to his confusion was decorated with balloons, several round tables covered with white table cloth and each topped with ornate floral centerpieces and layers upon layers of red cloth hanging from the ceiling to create an elegant canopy overhead, he found Gabriella by the rectangular table off to the far right of the room, her back to him.

She was fiddling with something on the table, her concentration on it that she didn't hear Troy striding closer to her. About two steps away, he stopped and after dispelling a nervous breath, he asked softly. "Need any help?"

He immediately saw her body tense upon hearing his voice and ever so slowly she turned as if to check if she associated the right person to the voice. When Gabriella saw him, she swayed shakily as her mind refused to function for a few seconds. The balloon she was holding and trying to tie for the air not to escape fell from limp hands, whizzed a few distances, propelled by the released air, and landed flat on the edge of the rectangular table.

She could not believe her eyes. It took several mental attempts to convince her brain that her eyes isn't playing tricks on her. That he's real. In the flesh standing before her.

"I-I'm fine." She heard herself replying.

Overcome with relief, Troy took in the sight of her in a casual printed shirt, shorts and her feet in flipflops and her hair on a messy bun atop her head. She's beautiful. Even with her eyes lacking its usual brightness or the usual tilt of her lips as though always poised for a smile missing, he stood there mesmerized by her beauty.

"I'm not." He rasped. "I need you . . ."

He was using all of his control to keep from coming closer to her, to tuck the loose curls that fell on her face, wrap her in a tight embrace, feel her against him, smell her intoxicating scent and kiss her senseless to alleviate his fucked up state. But at the same time, he didn't feel worthy of all that privilege.

So unworthy. He was stupid beyond excuse. Insensitive and had been inconsiderate of her feelings. He's a jerk. But he's willing to make amends, willing to do anything to earn back the right be her friend, her husband, her lover . . .

Gabriella tried to assimilate what she was seeing . . . Troy is here. Slowly, she ran brown eyes over his length, noting the unkempt hair that seem in dire need of a haircut, the dark shadows that lined the sides of his face and the deep lines under his blue eyes that said the past days had been difficult for him as they'd been for her. His clothes were not any better. He looked like he had been living in the streets but she didn't care.

He was there standing just within arm's reach looking back at her adoringly. It's what she's been wishing for since she came here. "Do you?"

"Gabi . . ." He began with a pained voice. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. If I could come up with a better line, a better way to tell you how sorry I am, I will gladly do it. I regret every second of my stupidity that caused you to worry, to feel insecure, to doubt . . ." A paused followed as he tried to organize his thoughts, then he said softly, persuasively. "I should've realized this sooner . . . if I hadn't let my experience with Julie cloud my decisions. There's no excuse for that, I know, but regardless of my cynic attitude when I got to know you . . . I found you on my mind far, far too often than I expected. In the brief time that we've been together, I made you an integral part of my life without even knowing I was doing it. God! I miss you so much, Gabi." He drew a long, labored breath, his eyes imploring.

"I don't know how to say this after what I did, but you and I spent times together that were above the ordinary for anyone forced into each others company. We laughed and talked and learned we had a lot in common. It happened naturally . . . we were good together . . . we still are." He gave her a hopeful smile.

"Troy—"

He wasn't planning on giving her a chance to object. He needed her to hear everything he was feeling, to assure her that the love she felt for him wasn't wasted. "Please give me another chance, Gabi . . . I won't force you to forgive me . . . just a chance to show you that what we shared before all this happened wasn't pretense. It meant something. You mean something to me . . .I can't go back to L.A. without you. I won't."

She understood what he was trying to say and it somehow made her lightheaded but she was concerned still. Just being good together isn't enough anymore. It had hurt to know his heart belongs to someone else when her own heart belongs to him. "What about Julie?"

He could see the curiosity coupled with the pain in her eyes which pained him too. "What about her?"

"She's still important to you." She stated even though it hurt to say it. She hesitated a moment then added, "I—your dad insisted I stay in your old room when I came here. I saw the pictures of you and Julie—I'm sorry I didn't mean to snoop. It was in the drawer I was using."

"Gabi . . ."

She ignored him. "She was your girlfriend."

Troy nodded.

"You love her." She concluded swallowing against the constriction in her throat. She lived with the fear that he would find her having decided that he didn't want to continue with their marriage any more because he's still in love with his former girlfriend. She promised herself that she won't burden him with living up to his end of the arrangement, if it is what happens.

He thought he heard her voice break. But he was quick to correct her assumption. "No." He uttered with certainty then unable to take the distance any longer, he closed the gap between them and gently held her face with both hands. "Gabi, it's you." He murmured gazing deeply into her searching auburn eyes. "I didn't think I could be capable of feeling so strongly for someone again but you taught me. You proved me wrong."

She was paralyzed by his closeness, the tender caress of his thumb against her cheek and the intense blue pools of his eyes. God, she missed him! But she had to be sure. "What do you mean?"

Gently leaning his forehead against hers, his hands dropped from framing her face to trail down her arms and sought to lace his fingers through hers. "You are what I never thought I always wanted." He whispered hoarsely and gave a small smile. "It's been you all along."

"Please don't say that . . . if you don't mean it." She begged, and she found herself gripping his wrists with both hands. "I don't want you to feel obligated—"

He pressed a finger against her lips to stop her while shaking his head. "Obligation is me staying in the farm to settle labor problems when I could have used that time to gather my wits and realize you're here all along. It's not obligation that you linger in every corner of my thoughts and my heart."

Tears welled unchecked from her eyes. She couldn't help it. His eyes became a reflection of the pain she had been feeling and just the thought that he's there willing absorb the hurt, the insecurity and the fear she had felt made her come to the brink of understanding why she fell in love with him.

"Oh Gabi . . . please don't cry." He drew her in a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head as she made a shaky effort to control her tears and pulled back slightly from his chest. "T-thank you . . . for-for being here, Troy." She touched his cheek with one hand, overwhelmed by what she feels for him. "I missed you too . . . so much."

Gabriella sensed his breathing had changed, then his eyes took on an intense blue color that sent shudders to run down her spine. She stood in there staring back at him—forgetting the days past where she would sit in his room for a long time drowning in desolation with her legs drawn up against her chest thinking of him, relieving all the unforgettable times spent with him, their teasing and flirting and laughter, the time they became friends, the night they made love and of course, the day he asked her to stay married to him outside of the agreement.

Instead, with him being here voicing out the tender words she only dream she'd hear from him, joy sluiced down on her because these memories were the reason why she felt a wonderful sense of oneness with Troy . . . these helped shape their relationship.

Their eyes held, then he turned his head to kiss her palm. A brief smile lifted his lips before they fell serious again. "I don't just miss you . . ." His hands dropped to trail down her arms and then he threaded his fingers with hers, tightening his grip. "I love you, Gabriella Bolton."

Time stood still and Gabriella felt a moment of intense elation. She searched his face, saw the sincerity and longing and with a small throaty cry she flung herself against him, arms looping around his neck and clinging, crying even more.

His arms, too, circled her steadfastly while he pressed his face in the crook of her warm neck. He rocked her back and forth, standing surefooted amidst the shiny balloons scattered on the floor around their feet, molding her body firmly to his, drawing comfort from her nearness . . . not wanting to let go.

"I love you . . . I love you so." Troy repeated, kissing her temple.

She held his face, leaned her forehead on his and her voice grew gruff with emotion. "I love you too."

"Say it again, Gabi . . . please." He said quietly.

She stared at him for a full ten seconds, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, then she said, "I love you, Troy Bolton."

He tenderly wiped the tears on her face with the pads of his thumbs and confided, "I think I loved you when I saw you in our kitchen with your mouth full of gummy bears and yogurt."

Lifting her chin, he was graced by her lovely smile and the sound of her teary giggle. He couldn't help but bend his head to hers and let their mouths fused wordlessly. Silky, wet tongues tangling together, releasing the ache each had endured during their separation, seeking to make up for the emptiness of the days apart and speaking of the loneliness and misery about to end in bliss.

The greedy but glorious kiss lasted for endless minutes until their breaths were labored and their blood pounded furiously. His palms slid to her hips, drawing them securely against his hard curves. Then he tore his mouth away to press a kiss into the scented side of her neck and as she angled her head, he whispered roughly, "Come with me . . ."

"Yes . . . but, Troy," She answered in a shaky voice as she cradled the back of his head, pressing his lips closer to her skin. "I have to finish decorating this room . . ." She had promised Patrick she'd do this. She didn't want to break that promise especially because it's his day and besides she's nearly done anyway so it wouldn't take too long.

He lifted his head in confusion. "I must've been out in the farm too long. Am I missing something here? What's the occasion?"

"Today is Grandpa's birthday!" She clamored. "There's a party tonight."

He frowned, noted the seriousness in her eyes and after awhile a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "His birthday is not for three months."

"But—" She gaped at him, dumbfounded while Troy could almost see the wheels of her brain were turning to give an explanation as to why the family would lie to her about Patrick's birthday. "Yesterday I told them I was leaving . . . coz' I didn't think you'd still come for me . . . they tricked me into staying longer!"

"Aren't you glad they're meddlesome like that?"

She seemed to pause to consider this thought and when she looked back at him, her eyes were alight with love and happiness. "Oh yes . . . definitely."

With all his weariness dissipated, he chuckled as his strong arms cinched her hips. "The decorations are fantastic though. Grandpa will be ecstatic to know the decorations are already set up in advance for his birthday."

"I'm so gullible." She pouted.

Smiling, he dipped his head low and with infinite tenderness he briefly traced her luscious pouting lips with the tip of his tongue. "There's nothing I don't love about you, Gabi . . . nothing." He vowed.

* * *

A/N: _Thank you for all the reviews and to those who PM me to say such encouraging and kind words. I feel so lucky that I have such wonderful readers. I cannot thank you all enough. I apologize for the delays in updates . . . there are really days that are difficult and you learn you can only divide your attention and your brain to a limited number of things. Hopefully, things will ease out in the coming days. But as for this story, i think two more chapters and the end._


	28. Chapter 28 My Gift

Chapter 28

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything..._

* * *

"Some party huh?" Troy's quiet voice sounded from where he was standing next to his old study table that was still reminiscent of his high school paraphernalia.

He felt weird being in his old room again after many years yet he was certain it had nothing to do with any memories related to Julie. It was more of the length of time that passed when last he had been in it. Yet, he did notice upon stepping in earlier that his room seemed nicer and welcoming. He had no doubt it was because of Gabriella staying in it. It was no longer empty and lonely. She gave the room new life.

He had other thoughts concerning his mind though, like the fact that Gabriella looks so darn sexy in the pale yellow satin sleepwear she donned, a complete contradiction to the innocence of her expression, and how it was distracting his frame of mind from doing what it needed to do which is to tell her of his past and the effect it had on him.

Sitting on one side of the bed, Gabriella turned her head slightly sideways to look at him wearing a worn cotton shirt and shorts and his hair still damp from the shower he took. He looks incredibly sexy and if it weren't for his awkward body stance or his eyes looking fleetingly at hers, she'd think he's downright seducing her.

She gave a small nod and smile. "Yeah." She agreed softly, her thoughts not on the small celebration that happened earlier which had nothing to do with Patrick's birthday but more to celebrate her and Troy's reunion. She was wondering why Troy seems a bit uneasy and why it looked like he was purposely lingering longer far from the bed. "I guess they didn't want my decorating efforts to go to waste."

He chuckled lightly but his hand was unconsciously rubbing at his nape in what Gabriella was certain to be a gesture of his when nervous. Instead of point blank asking him why he was acting as such, she let the awkwardness emanating from him run its course. She stayed silent, waiting for him to say something.

Blessedly, after several minutes, he did. "Your brother and . . . we . . . uhh, argued when he came by Sharpay's apartment."

Unsure where the topic was going, she went along with it while trying to figure out what could be the reason for his sudden reluctance to join her on the bed. This shift in behavior from eager and possessive to reluctant and tense became obvious about two hours ago when they left the sunroom and entered his old room.

Earlier, she tried not to think much of it as they went about preparing for bed. But once they were done and there wasn't anything to fidget with, she was then faced with a nervous husband. She doesn't want him so uptight. She wants the sweet, warm and passionate Troy she came to love and has grown accustomed to.

_It must be this room_ _that's making him seem awkward_. She assumed. He must've had many memories with Julie here and she imagined how strange it must be for him to be here after all these time. Of course Troy had said he loves her and she's really happy with that but she also understands his declaration of love for her doesn't automatically mean he erased Julie from his mind. It doesn't make her jealous or sad. She knows it takes time to forget a loved one but even if she doesn't know exactly what happened to him and Julie, she's hoping that with her help, with her love, he can bury his past quicker.

Because after so many days apart, she just wants to be held, comforted, assured and loved.

"You punched each other faces." She stated bluntly, making him stare at her with a bit of shock. Giggling at his wide eyed reaction, she added, "Sharpay told me and she said you still owe her for the furniture you helped damage."

"I deserved the blows Paolo gave because of what I did to you." He said after getting over his shock, his face back to being somber.

"Black eye?" She asked matching his seriousness even if she feels like smiling at what was looking like his continued efforts to explain to her.

"Bruises." He corrected gravely. "Busted lip."

"Oh yeah, Paolo had the black eye."

Troy frowned questioningly at her.

"Sharpay." Gabriella replied casually of the unspoken query. "She told me what went down with you and Paolo. And she kept stressing about her furniture—I think you should pay for those. They're precious to her."

"Gabi, please, I'm being serious here."

She inched toward the middle of the bed so she was in line of his vision. She sat with her back straight and curled her legs under her. "Why?" She intoned. She thought she heard a plea in his voice. "Are we not okay?"

"I should be asking you that."

"Okay . . ."

He sighed and after a moment's hesitation stood up and languidly made his way to the foot of the bed. "I want to tell you about Julie." He said, remaining to stand.

"Troy . . . if it's still too hard for you . . . you can tell me some other time." Gabriella softly uttered.

He slowly shook his head, amazed by her kindness and consideration when he's the one who should be giving it to her. "I want to, Gabi. It matters to me that you know. It was hard for me before to talk about her but now it isn't. And I should have told you this before I asked you to stay married to me outside of the arrangement."

Soft brown eyes flickered to Troy's uncertain blues. "Then tell me . . . all of it."

With a deep breath and a glint of purpose iridescent in his eyes, he began softly. "Julie was my girlfriend. Not my first relationship but the first one that I fell in love with." His eyes never faltering from hers, his voice slow and steady, he told her everything, how the relationship began, then lasted; how they remained committed despite the distance and the pressures of college; how he was so certain of their future that he had everything planned out; how she came back that one time already engaged to another man—which he now knows to be Paolo—and realizing their feelings was no longer mutual. He laughed with a twinge of disbelief. "And I carried her betrayal throughout thinking I'd take it as a reminder not to make the same mistake again. I was so wrong."

He plopped himself down on the edge of the mattress and carefully reached for her hand, holding it, then he began moving his thumb, brushing it lightly over her knuckles and the crevice between her fingers. "I was so overcome with anger that I didn't realize I was still clinging to the past. I should have exorcised her ghost a long time ago—I would not have hurt you if I did. I'm sorry, Gabi—"

Gabriella pushed herself up in a kneeling position and moved to sit in front of him, silencing his apology with a finger pressed to his lips. She smiled at him, thankful that he confided, relieved that it wasn't Julie's memories that made him nervous but rather what her reaction will be and overwhelmed by the sensations that just his thumb could make her feel. "Troy, apology accepted."

Troy stared at their joined hands before meeting her smiling eyes, wondering if she could feel the throbbing of his own heart that spoke of his intense feelings for her. Words are just not enough to convey his emotions of both love and guilt.

Guilt because he had hurt her unnecessarily. Guilt because he had failed to recognize his own love for her and therefore failed to reciprocate when he should. Guilt because he made her feel uncertain of herself, her love and her future with him. And adding to that is her forgiving him so easily.

He would have understood if she took time to think of his apology but no, she gave it readily. It wasn't that he was complaining but after what he did, he wanted to earn that forgiveness. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" She inquired a little confused.

"Why do you forgive me just . . . so easily?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Gabi . . . I hurt you." The hand holding hers tightened briefly.

"Troy, look at me." She ordered gently. "Yes, you did hurt me and for awhile I thought you were ready to get rid of me because you saw Julie again. I thought she was a long lost love and who am I to challenge that? What you shared with her is probably far meaningful than what we had at present." She saw regret darken his eyes because he made her feel that way but he shook his head, negating her assumptions, before she continued. "But I could not forget how you asked me for permanence in our marriage and how you introduced me to your family and told me that they're mine too. That's the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me, Troy. Ever since my mother died, I have always wanted to belong to a family again. You did that . . . only you."

Unexpectedly at the memory of her mother, tears glimmered her eyes. She fought against it. Her voice trembled slightly and Troy instantly cradled her head against his warm chest. But once she drew a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled back only far enough to see his face and met his intense eyes which did not smile or make light of her words. It held a strange kind of look that oddly enough comforted Gabriella.

"I know you didn't do all that just on a whim. You had to feel something for me too. Something deeper than caring. I didn't know if its love or something almost like it but I know there's a space in there for me." She lightly jabbed a finger to his chest to indicate his heart. "And even though I was hurt, I was willing to gamble on that gut feeling. I only stayed away to give you time to think and sort out your feelings. I had no intention to make you suffer or prolong the agony . . . because then it would make me suffer too."

Overwhelmed by emotion, Troy groaned standing up from the bed as he gathered her into his arms, pinning her tightly against the length of his body, clasping her head just below his neck. "Gabi, I'll never hurt you again." He promised in a hoarse voice.

"I know you won't, never knowingly." She murmured as she kissed the side of his neck, feeling the thrum of his heart against her chest.

"I love you, Gabi, you know that now, don't you?" Troy whispered.

"Yes . . . I've had my suspicions then but now I know for sure." She grinned at him before pressing her face back to the crook of his neck, smelling faint after shave and that familiar scent of his. "And I'm glad you can talk about Julie without anger or bitterness, you're free of her at last."

"All because of you." Troy slid his arms down on her hips while his head dropped down to place a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for taking a risk on me."

"You're very welcome."

He untangled his arms from her, slowly stroking her upper arms as he smiled with no more awkwardness or uncertainty in his eyes. It was a smile of happiness "I have something for you."

"What?" She couldn't help but smile back. His charming smile had an exhilarating effect on her.

He asked her to wait as he turned away and went to retrieve something from his backpack that was sitting on one of the chairs in the room.

It didn't take long as he was back in a jiffy, with one of his hands tucked behind him. He tried to be stern when she playfully tugged at his arm but although he no longer looked worried his face became grave again when he spoke. "The day after my altercation with Paolo, I couldn't really think of anything but you. Where you were, how you must be hurting and how it's my fault I can't be there to ease your pain . . . I ended up wandering the streets trying to think." He said as he stood in front of her and held one of her hands in his.

Gabriella lifted her free hand to stroke the side of his face, smiling tenderly. "Troy, we're okay now. There's no . . ."

He enclosed the hand on his cheek with his own. "I was so scared of the prospect of loosing you that in a moment of panic, it occurred to me I haven't even given you anything to even remember me by. So . . . I bought something for you that day."

"You mean like a gift?" She asked dubiously.

He nodded in affirmation, smiling at her owlish expression. "A gift. I had it made for you." Then he let go of her hand, brought his hidden hand forward. And he held his closed fist in front of her, slowly opened his palms to reveal a beautiful ring dotted with heart shaped yellow canary diamonds around the entire band. "I've been waiting for a chance to give it to you."

As her curious eyes dropped from Troy's blue eyes that seem suddenly nervous again to his open palm, Gabriella gasped at the lovely, very rare kind of gem and very expensive piece of jewelry. "Oh my . . . Troy, it's so gorgeous . . ."

"It's a promise ring." He whispered. "I should have given you something like this before our wedding as is usual for couples but we didn't exactly fall under normal. . ."

"It would have been meaningless then and I probably would have slapped you."

He grinned. "I'm glad I'm doing this now."

Peering closer to his palm to admire the glittering piece of colored gem, she caught sight of an inscription inside the band. "Something's written inside." She gazed back at him questioningly.

A mysterious grin lurked in his gaze as Troy raised the ring and tilted it for her to get a better view of its inscription that read, _"My Gabi . . ." _Gabriella uttered in awe as the sentimentality and the possessiveness of the words once again bought tears to her golden eyes.

Amidst a haze of tears, she saw Troy put the ring on the same finger where her wedding band was. She felt the cool slide of metal on her skin before he pulled her almost roughly against his chest then captured her trembling lips into a lingering kiss—she cried happy tears and smiled into the kiss.

When it ended, Gabriella's grip on his shoulders loosened but she remained in his arms and her long fingers lightly stroked the hair that fell over his forehead and at his temple. She sniffed softly and spoke with a bit of disappointment. "I'm afraid I don't have a gift for you."

A chuckle rumbled from his chest as he admired the teary eyed yet smiling goddess in his embrace, her ebony curls spilling over her trim shoulders and back. He brushed his knuckles over her smooth cheek that were slightly flushed and said, "You gave it to me months ago . . . I'm lucky to be looking at her right now."

And with a deft move, he shifted his arms to her back and the other going behind her knees then Gabriella's world tilted as he lifted her up bridal style and carried her to his old bed.

Smiling, she gave him a chaste smack to the lips. "It's been a long, exhausting day—"

"Days." He corrected, emphasizing the S at the end of the word.

She giggled. "Week—I'm glad it's over. It was a horrible week for me."

"For both of us."

Gently, he placed her down and slid in next to her, pulling the covers over them then he drew her close, their bodies molding easily, loving her softness against his rigid contours, absorbing her warmth, and inhaling her wonderful scent. "If in future you get annoyed at me for something, will you promise me one thing, Gabi?"

"Anything."

"Slap me. Punch me." Troy said and Gabriella was surprised to see the seriousness in his expression. "Throw something at me. I don't really care. I'll take anything . . . just don't think of leaving me again."

Gabriella looked at him for a long moment, drowning in his intense gaze, seeing relief, pride, joy and love in the blue depths, before admitting, "Violence isn't really my thing, Troy." She seemed to be pondering on the idea, considering other options and deciding on its wisdom. "How about we start anew by being honest to each other . . . no more secrets?"

He took hold of her hand and kissed it. "No more secrets."

"You know what's weird?" Gabriella asked after a moment of complete silence. She adjusted her head on his arm so that they were face to face and gazing into each others eyes.

He smiled affectionately. "What?"

"Marissa." She replied, the frown that marred her brows showing of confoundedness. "You'd expect after what happened to us she'd come charging in ready to claim my inheritance but _nothing_ . . . its weird. You think she died or something?"

Unable to hold back a chuckle, he drew her in much closer that Gabriella was sure not even a bedbug could crawl between their bodies. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but she's very much alive. The reason why she did not bother you is because my father pestered her to no end when the labor dispute broke in the farm. The problems the laborers were complaining about was caused by her mismanagement before we even got the farm. And I fired the maid in our house that was spying on her behalf."

"You mean . . . she really hired someone to . . . ohh, that witch!" She blurted out with a spurt of anger and disbelief, making her sit upright.

Troy sat up too and ran a comforting hand up and down her back. The anger slowly dissipated after awhile, making her ask, "How did you know it was one of the maids?"

"I hired a professional—Eddie Faulk—to do a background check of every employee we have in the house. I promised you I'll handle Marissa. I did not forget that promise. You don't have to worry about her anymore."

Her eyes became soft, grateful. "Thank you, Troy."

He grinned, gently pushed her to lie down on the bed and moved up and over her. "Just so you know, I can no longer ignore how sexy you look stretched on my bed or the touch of your hand and the feel of your body pressing against me . . . so babe, I feel it's only fair to warn you, I will kiss you now."

"Shh." She covered his lips that hovered very close to her own with her fingertips, her eyes twinkling. "I'm the one who talks too much, okay Wildcat?"

Troy stopped before he could swoop down on her inviting lips, surprised by the nickname she used. "Wildcat?—How did you—"

She bit her lower lip guiltily. "I kinda lied earlier when I said I didn't mean to snoop here . . . coz' I did."

"Gabi, it's okay. I'm just surprised." He said, gently running his fingers through her hair spilled out on his pillow. "I haven't heard that name since graduating East High."

"Good because it's like a _nerdy_ dream of mine to be married to a superstar and from what I discovered here in your room you were one heck of a Wildcat superstar . . . imagine my delight!"

A hearty laugh erupted from Troy's lips as he yanked her hands up and pinned both wrists on either side of her head. "God, I love you . . . you wonderful, beautiful nerd of mine!" Then without wasting any more time, he rained kisses all over her face and the pressure on her wrist disappeared.

As his mouth finally settled on her lips, her eyes closed, and soft, seeking kisses urged her lips to open. Gentle, eager hands ran along her sides and back brushing against the silky fabric, hiking it up her body.

Gabriella's own hands did not stay idle for long. It sought him blindly, skimming underneath his shirt, exploring his muscled back with widespread hands, sliding down over the hollows of his spine before she found the hem and helped him rid of the shirt the same time he assisted her in shrugging the silk off her body.

He cupped her breasts fully, pushing it upward, feeling its weight on his palms then he lowered his head to run his tongue on the soft, smooth skin surrounding her nipple, tasting, teasing. Gabriella could feel the sweet yearning as he continued the pleasurable task, soft sounds emitting from her throat, her hands cradling his head to her chest not wanting him to stop anytime soon.

Out of pure pleasure and longing, Gabriella instinctively pressed her still covered womanly core hard against his warm, rigid body and moved it suggestively until he groaned and pushed himself up to yank the last piece of garment down her legs.

She took that chance to push his back on the bed. He admired her vivid beauty and the seductive movement as she crawled over him.

Anticipating her touch, Troy laid back, his chest rising and falling and his blood heating up at an alarming rate. He groaned when she kissed her way down his well honed torso as she undressed him fully until he lay there silent, waiting, drifting in pleasure and very aroused.

He tugged at her elbow, and she fell back beside him. She clung to his neck, kissing his jaw, cheek, his lips, letting his expert tongue dance into the wet silk of her mouth. She matched his hungry kisses, his eager caresses and the ardor of it all. And from there, rapture began.

His lips made their downward journey, exploring her body at will, with reverence and love in every kiss. He tasted her, made her writhe and cry out, just like she tasted him, took all of his length to make him shudder.

With desire coursing through her veins, it was amazing to Gabriella how she was still aware of the difference in the way Troy was kissing her. It was as if he was making every kiss perfect for her, making sure she would feel pleasure in every touch and at the same time, he was atoning for the hurt he caused her. He kissed her breasts, her flat belly, the soft contours and valleys beside her hip, her thighs down to her ankles until she was quivering with violent emotions that only he can calm.

"Please, Troy . . . make love to me now." She murmured, arching her body in invitation.

His eyes dark and stormy with desire, he kissed her searingly then spoke against her lips, his words edged with love and passion. "_My beautiful Gabi_ . . ." He lifted his body above her and poised himself at her entrance.

And a moment later their bodies became one.

The minutes that followed each experienced a sense of celebration that equaled nothing they have felt before. It was more than a joining of bodies or a fulfillment of desire. Unburdened by their uncertainties and putting an end to whatever doubt either of them may have or any lingering memories of Julie the bedroom holds fading away into obscurity, they stroked each other to climax because of one reason alone.

He loves her. She loves him. Anything else is irrelevant.

* * *

"How was it?"

Startled by the sudden voice, Troy choked on the water he was drinking.

He replaced the glass down on the kitchen counter, coughing and jabbing a fist to his chest to ease the sharp sting. With his face red, he looked up to find his grandfather standing across from him and looking like he was unconcerned his grandson was having trouble breathing or that he was the reason why he was struggling to breathe properly.

Patrick stood there calm as a post, waiting for Troy's coughing to subside.

A minute or so, Troy grumbled at him. "Grandpa, don't sneak up on people! You're gonna give someone a heart attack!"

All Troy got was a slight twitch of the shoulders. Then he repeated his question. "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Last night . . . with Gabriella."

Troy blinked at him. "You're seriously asking me that?"

"I cannot be any more serious than I am now."

"Well, I can't tell you that!"

"Why not?!" He demanded, the set of his chin stubborn.

"Because it's not something married couples should share to family members or to the public!" Troy retorted as if scolding an ignorant child. "Do you ask mom this type of question? Coz' really, Grandpa, if she's comfortable detailing it to you, I don't share that sentiment."

Patrick seemed surprised by his outburst. He frowned as though confused then once he understood what Troy meant, narrowed his eyes at him. "You dirty minded snot!" He roared, swinging his cane over the counter separating them to poke Troy on the shoulder. "I asked how was _IT—IT _being your talk with Gabriella—not the _IT_ you did with her after!"

Rubbing the spot on his shoulder, Troy had the grace to look apologetic. He offered a disconcerted grin to Patrick. "Uhh, it went well, Grandpa. We cleared the air." He mumbled. "Sorry for . . . assuming . . ."

Patrick continued to grumble under his breath as he moved to sit on one of the fancy stools. "I wasn't expecting you up so early." He commented after settling himself, slight annoyance still heard from his tone.

"Yeah . . . I asked the cook to make breakfast for me and Gabi."

"Is she awake?"

Troy shook his head, smiling at the memory of last night and the wonderful feeling he had waking up to the sleeping beauty snuggled close to him. "Not yet."

"Other than breakfast in bed, what do you two plan on doing today?"

"Grandpa, I feel like I'm in an inquest."

"Just answer the question." Patrick uttered with impatience. "And stop thinking the nasty."

Raising his arms in surrender, Troy placated him with an answer. "I was thinking we'll go back to L.A. coz' the paintings of Gabi's mom are already in the mansion and I hired a designer to put them in the house as an added décor, you know, something to admire from the walls and . . . so Gabi can see it. It's kind of a surprise for her." He explained, brushing off the matter casually but in truth he's really looking forward to seeing Gabriella's reaction when she sees her mother's paintings. "But we can always stay for a couple more days here, if she likes or if you want us here."

Patrick stared at Troy for a long time, sensing his giddiness, the contented smile and the complete change in his face which had none of the weariness from yesterday. He was smiling like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He looks recharged and ready to take on anything.

He smirked and pulled a white envelope from his pocket. "Here." He slid it across the granite top towards Troy. "It's a third option. I suggest you take it."

Puzzled, Troy opened the envelope and found destination tickets. "You're giving us a vacation?"

"No, a honeymoon destination." He clarified. "Take your pick—Belize's Cayo Espanto or Le Taha'a in the French Polynesia. Those are private island resorts."

Troy was rendered speechless unsure what to make of the belated wedding present from his grandfather. His mouth hung open, a pair of cool blue eyes staring, assessing, until he gave his head a slight shake and cleared his throat. "Can we choose both?"

Patrick shrugged indifferently.

Gratitude flashed across Troy's handsome features for reasons other than his thoughtful gift. At first glance, it may seem like Patrick Reiss doesn't care but Troy knew the old guy along with his parents had a lot to do with where he is now. They were tough at times, demanded a lot, and a little nosy too, but they always come through for him and always wants what's best for him. "Thank you, Grandpa . . . really. Gabi will love this too."

With a whimsical smile breaking out from his weathered face, he accepted the thanks with a nod. "You're welcome." He said simply. "But just one request, Troy . . ."

"Of course, Grandpa. What is it?"

"Make this honeymoon productive. I'm not getting any younger."

_

* * *

_

_Love is not the desire to lay with someone, but in the need to sleep next to someone._

_-Milan Kundera_

_

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__A/N: Thank you for the amazing response to the last chapter! This one is actually the continuation of that. I had to cut it because of the length and this part was unfinished when I posted the last one. To my awesome, awesome reviewers (you know who you all are), Your reviews can really make an author smile. It's great reading them, especially the long ones. Oh to my new reader & reviewer Ginabella . . . thank you for the marathon review. Lol! I hope you like this chapter too._


	29. Chapter 29 With You

Chapter 29

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything . . ._

* * *

"Please stop grumbling!" Alicia heaved with exasperation lacing her voice as she swung around to give her father an irritated gaze. She kept her voice low and her lips in a smile all too careful not to let the gathered crowd know that she was actually chastising Patrick. "Dad," She began in what she hoped was a reasonable tone yet would tell Patrick of her slowly wearing patience. "I don't know why it's such a big deal to you. We don't need proof of their efforts, you know. I'm sure those three weeks were spent—"

"Exactly!" Patrick hissed under his breath, also aware of the people around them. "Three whole weeks that I so generously gave!" He paused to acknowledge a congratulatory greeting from a burly man who suddenly clasped his hand for an animated handshake. Both him and Alicia smiling cheerfully at the enthusiastic remark for the successful opening of the new restaurant then as soon as the man left, he turned the same sour face to his daughter to continue where he left off. "Three weeks—and they bring home a dog!"

Grabbing her father's hand, Alicia steered him in the direction of their assigned seats that provided optimal view of the long stage. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong?—it's very wrong!" He was entirely flabbergasted.

"Keep it down!" Alicia reminded him sternly, ignoring the annoyed and disbelieving look being thrown her way by her father.

His brows furrowing even more, Patrick looked about him to see if anyone had noticed his short outburst. When he noted none seem to have given attention since most were busy talking amongst themselves, mingling thru the crowd or busy admiring the opulence of the occasion, he clutched at his daughter's arm and retorted, "This is a conspiracy against me."

He sounded as if he had discovered an actual conspiracy to bring him to his demise and thus warning everyone involved, he fully intended to thwart any more of it progressing.

Rolling her eyes, Alicia willed to stretch her patience then calmly said, "Dad, no one cooked up a conspiracy to annoy you. It's not like those two are controlling their urges just to make you suffer. Looking at Troy alone will tell you. They are still enjoying their marriage. What you want—it will happen, Dad. Just be patient."

Finding he couldn't come up with another argument to what she said, Patrick resorted back to grumbling unintelligibly until they reached the white seats near the stage. He slumped down on the cushioned seat with his name on it, adjusting his weight while continuously muttering under his breath.

Alicia placed herself on the empty seat between Patrick and Jack who had been waiting for them for a good twenty minutes already. She sighed heavily at Jack's unspoken question regarding her father's endless grumbling and the scowl that marred his face. "Dad is displeased with the new dog." She replied.

Jack raised a brow. "The one Troy and Gabriella gave him?"

"Yes."

"Yes!" Patrick snapped quietly, once again renewed by the reason behind his restlessness, leaning to his left to address Jack. "That mutt with the black curly fur—"

"It's not a mutt. It's a—"

Patrick jerked a hand in the air between them to cut Jack off. "I don't care what it is." He growled. "The point I'm trying to argue here is—when I told Troy to make the vacation productive I meant human production! He should have used his efforts into planting his seeds properly—not buy a darn dog!"

"Well, I think it's sweet of them to give you a dog." Alicia interjected, emphasizing the word sweet on her father. "Instead of taking up grumbling as your new favorite pastime, you should be thankful already and let others enjoy this night."

"Oh really?" Patrick remarked with a bit of acerbic edge to his tone, meeting his daughter's gaze with a challenging one. "What do you want me to do with this dog? It isn't for companionship . . . I'm sure . . . because the house is always teeming with humanity. I can just turn any corner, every direction and always a person is there. And I am more of a cat person—"

"No you're not." Alicia contradicted point-blank.

This seemed to raise his hackles. Shifting in his seat, he stated. "You're not me . . . you can't tell me what I am or am not!"

"I'm your daughter. If there's anyone who knows you, it's me—will you please stop being difficult?—they've been married barely a year. They were strangers before getting wed, not one itty bitty bit of knowledge about each other. It's all the reverse in their case. So, let them enjoy each other first before you start demanding for a great grandchild."

Floored yet again, Patrick sat straight and crossed his arms over his well tailored suit and after a moment of sulking silence, he vented. "What the hell will I do with that dog?"

"Enjoy it. Name it. Play with it." Jack enumerated with a grin.

"You are enjoying my annoyance." Patrick accused, his eyes narrowing sideways at Jack.

"Me? I'm on your side, Patrick."

"Horseshit."

"Now, now, no need for profanities."

"Dad, language!" Shifting to her left, Alicia gripped Jack's forearm and glared at him. "Stop goading him." She hissed then very quickly pasted a smile to her face as another one of the guest stopped in front of them to offer congratulations. "Hello Emma! Thanks for coming! You look lovely." She greeted a little exuberantly than normal, standing up to greet the socialite with a friendly kiss to the cheek.

Jack greeted the woman as well and so did Patrick but his face was still looking disgruntled that the socialite Emma couldn't help but ask Alicia in a hushed tone, "I think your father doesn't like having this fashion show in line with the opening of his new restaurant." She conveyed, leaning closer to Alicia lest the old man hears her observation. "But I personally like it. I think it's a great end to tonight's occasion. Everyone is excited."

Nodding her agreement, Alicia confided with a bright smile. "It was all Troy's idea."

"How wonderful! I wish my son was more like Troy . . . so responsible and charming. Justin is somewhat of a playboy. Even now I see him flirting with another random female." Emma complained, placing a hand to Alicia's arm while shaking her perfectly coiffed head. "These women he associates with will be the death of me."

"Oh, believe me, not too long ago I know the feeling." Alicia offered with appropriate sympathy for the distressed mother, gently patting the hand that rested on her arm.

"Yes, she does." Patrick suddenly interpolated, surprising the two as it implied that he was in fact hearing their conversation and wasn't reluctant to put his two cents in. "She managed to reform the one she married."

Jack let out a strangled cough.

Emma's green orbs grew wide and she threw Alicia a furtive glance who smiled back uneasily before remarking, "He's senile—and that's putting it mildly. Let's go over at Troy's side, Emma. I'm sure he'd be delighted to know what you think of his ideas." And without waiting for an assent, she forcibly dragged the woman away from her father.

But Troy was not among the huddle of boys which consisted of his cousins and friends all dressed smartly for the occasion and who seemed to be immersed in a deep conversation of sorts. "Where's Troy?" Alicia asked making their entire grinning faces look up to her.

"Backstage." Chad quipped.

The rest of Troy's relatives nodded. "Yep. Backstage."

"With Gabriella." Adam added which caused a round of smirks from the other guys.

Alicia groaned inwardly and half glared at all of them. The insinuation of Adam's words coupled with the grinning men was clear to her and Emma. "Of course. Where else would he be."

* * *

If Gabriella were to be asked to pick one favorite moment during the three weeks honeymoon with Troy, she won't pick the day they went snorkeling or that time they went deep sea diving in the crystal blue waters of the West Caribbean and got well acquainted with the flora and fauna of underwater life.

Neither will she consider that time when Troy thought it would be awesome to be involved in the shark feeding activity the island offered—which in a weird kind of way was a fun experience once sharks swarm your boat—nor the day they went on an island discovery excursion via a helicopter tour from Le Taha'a to Bora Bora.

Even if most of their activities and adventures during the three weeks vacation were wonderful in its entirety, the thing she loved the most was getting to stay in the over-the-water luxury bungalow in Cayo Espanto . . . with Troy.

She didn't think it was possible to wake up together to the most beautiful sunrise, to a picture perfect window of the exotic water world of the Caribbean, seeing a variety of sea life swimming around and under their villa then whenever they feel like it, plunge into the tranquil water just outside their bungalow.

Yet looking back, she felt, it wasn't so much about the beautiful settings or the exciting activities but rather the company she was with. Being with Troy and having him to share it with made everything feel so much more enjoyable, fun and worthwhile.

_And it had been comforting to know Troy shared the same views as her. He said so himself while they were enjoying a private Motu picnic in Le Taha'a as the sun was setting in the horizon. _

"_Grandpa sure knows how to pick a romantic and unique honeymoon destination." He mentioned casually as they both looked to the sunset streaking orange and purple hues across the dimming sky._

"_Yes. Everything here is breathtaking, charming and wonderful."_

_Peeling his azure eyes from the sunset to gaze at her, he smiled at the amazement in her glorious brown eyes and reached a hand across the round table to lace their fingers together. "Even more so because it's with you." He huskily said, making her eyes sparkle in agreement as she nodded. "Sure it's a different experience being here but when I look at you and see you happy, looking at me with exhilaration in your eyes . . . all these becomes an exceptional moment."_

_Touched by the tenderness of his words, she moved up from her seat to sit on his lap. Gently cradling his handsome face in both her hands, she teasingly whispered, "Where did the arrogant man I married in Italy go?"_

_His chest shook lightly as he chuckled, his hands snaking to her waist and adjusting her position on his lap so that she straddled him instead of just sitting sideways. "He fell in love with this ebony haired beauty. Lucky girl, if you ask me."_

_She gasped at his sudden smugness but eagerly played along, squirming purposely on his lap. "Luckier man, in my opinion."_

_He groaned at the friction she created in his groin. These days it doesn't take much to stimulate him sexually and she knows it. He tightened his hold on her waist to steady her movements. "You don't play fair."_

"_What do you mean?" She inquired with sham innocence still trying to fidget from his hold._

"_Okay that's it." Slipping a hand to her nape, the other pulling her lower body closer, Troy dismissed the sounds of water, the gentle breeze of the wind and the distant echoes of other natural beings. "Making love while the sun sets will top the list of romantic activities, don't you think?" _

"_Out here?"_

"_Right here." He held Gabriella's beautiful face and closed the gap between their faces to kiss the teasing smile on her lips. "Right now."_

"_I love you . . ." She murmured just before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed back ardently._

They came back just yesterday afternoon, tanned and looking immensely refreshed. But with no time to spare, they picked up on their schedules. Troy, getting in the loop of the preparations for the opening of the new restaurant which was finally decided to be called Marina, after his grandmother's, Patrick's late wife, name, went into a meeting only an hour after they arrived in the airport.

While Gabriella went straight to the studio and after browsing through the numerous photos, signing papers, addressing some issues that arose in the weeks she was absent, she rushed to meet with Sharpay and some of her friends from high school and college to keep herself updated on the upcoming fashion show.

Also, she was scuttled by a freaking out Sharpay to fit the suit that she's supposed to model. But much as she wanted, there wasn't a chance to let Troy see what she's wearing for the show. It wasn't really necessary and Sharpay thinks she's being silly but Gabriella wanted his approval.

"Are you sure this is okay with you?" Gabriella asked her husband as soon as he materialized next to her in the enormous crowded tent provided to those who will be modeling swimsuits, gauging his facial expression as his eyes languidly roved over her body clad in a gladiator open cut disc swimsuit in black and with gold trimmings. From the one strap bandeau connected on one side with a strip of textile to its bikini bottoms, the swimsuit actually is a one piece but the gaping cut in the area that's supposed to cover the middle part of her torso and back made it look like a two piece suit. "I mean if you think this is too revealing, I'll ask Cindy for another one."

She pulled him off to the side behind several racks of swimsuits and stacks of big boxes to keep away from staring eyes of the other occupants of the tent which they were already attracting. With her arms slightly stretched up to the sides, she slowly twirled herself around for his inspection and waited for him to pass judgment.

Troy smiled admiringly, amused by her wariness, as he leaned off one of the metal post holding the tent up to walk towards her. She looks splendid and unattainable yet her eyes held the same playfulness that has always been there. It's a wonderfully intriguing contrast to an ordinary onlooker and he had no doubt the camera and the crowd will love her once she walks out the stage.

He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, toned abs that was revealed all too lavishly by the edgy designed suit, pulling her close, her body instantly adjusting to his contours, then with appreciation written on his face he said, "You look like you just stepped out of the cover of Sports Illustrated."

"So you like it?"

"It's classy sexy. I love it. It's perfect on you." He admitted sincerely, knowing no other female could pull off the suit with elegance the way she does. "You look absolutely fantastic, Gabi."

"And you really don't mind that I'm going to walk out there in this?"

"We talked about this in Belize, babe. I even suggested to Sharpay to hold this show here. You know this."

"Yes, we did but I'm just making sure you didn't change your mind between our flight back to L.A. to the program earlier." She was referring to the short program for the opening of the restaurant. "You were really not agreeable to this when Sharpay first told you."

"Ah, yes." He concurred tipping his head back slightly. "That was then. When I was shrouded with insecurity and misplaced doubt."

"And now?"

"And now, after what we've been through—including the three weeks of honeymoon—I can honestly say I'm okay with this. I don't mind if they ogle at you . . . and they will. Believe me." The degree of certainty was evident in his voice but Gabriella sensed it was plain certainty of facts and not anything else that would imply he was only forcing himself to like what she's about to do. "This is something that you have been doing with peers before I even came into your life, Gabi. I don't see why I have to hinder this when there's nothing bad about it. It's for charity and I know every so often you also enjoy not being behind the camera. Besides, we're married. You're my wife and I love you . . ."

"I love you too."

He gently squeezed her waist. "Admiring stares will not change these facts. So yes, this is okay with me. And is there anything wrong if I want to flaunt my wife's gorgeousness once in awhile?" He grinned widely while his brows rose as if daring her to deny him.

She laughed that easy sounding laugh he found adorable and infectious at the same time. "I guess not."

"Grandpa is displeased though." Surprised by the abrupt change in topic and the teasing note to his voice becoming slightly serious, Gabriella's smile was replaced with a questioning look.

"I overheard Grandpa complaining to Mom." Troy clarified as he did his best not to smile at the slight crease marring her brows while she listened carefully to what he had to say regarding the old man she had grown very fond of. "He's been pestering her to no end since we came back and throwing me death glares every chance he gets."

"He didn't like the dog? Oh no, I knew it." Her eyes grew round and a flash of worry crossed over them. "We should have chosen a Labrador instead."

"It's not that at all." He assured her, gently running his palms up and down her arms. "He's just using the dog as an excuse to express his disappointment."

"About what?"

"About me not getting you pregnant."

Her perfectly shaped brows crunched together once more. "I'm still on the pill."

"He doesn't need to know that." Troy remarked with a chuckle while playfully touching a finger to the tip of her cute nose. "It's kinda funny actually seeing him all grouchy then immediately grinning wide when one of the guests approaches him."

"I should talk to him."

"Uh, no." Troy shook his head amused by the concern that laced her voice over Patrick's unfulfilled wishes. "Unless you're telling Grandpa you want to be a mother soon—I prefer baby making matters stay between us."

Gabriella briefly bit her lower lip as she tried to read between Troy's spoken words. In truth, even that time when Troy had asked her to stay married to him beyond five years or even during their honeymoon, having a baby with him didn't really cross her mind. But now that the subject has been brought up by Patrick no less, she realized, as a married couple and with things between them ironed-out, it was a discussion they have to address. "Do you want us to have a baby soon?" She asked tentatively, still trying to read his face.

"Do you?" He inquired back suddenly unsure of what he assumed to be her stand on the matter, silently asking himself why they failed to discuss this during their vacation. Personally, he was in no hurry to be a father that's why he never thought to open up the subject and considering the circumstances on how they came to be married, it was still too early to be contemplating about babies. But with her unexpected question, he couldn't help but think he had been sensing her wrong about having a baby.

She smirked at him then unconsciously squeezed his biceps through the dark sleeves of his tux. "I asked you first." She mildly scolded.

"Okay . . . No." He replied, looking steadily at her curious brown eyes. "Not yet, at least. But just say the word and I'm amenable to what you want."

She afforded him a beautiful smile followed by her musical giggle that said she agreed with his decision. "I want to have a baby, Troy, but not right now." She clarified. "I want to enjoy _us_ first_—you and me"_ She lightly poked a finger to his chest and to hers as she said this. "—then we can start planning a family of our own."

He nodded, lightly pecking her shiny lips. "That sounds exactly like what's on my mind." He smiled, comforted by the knowledge that they are open about subject matters like this when only a month ago they kept thoughts to themselves, uneasy to confer deeper details of their future. "We're a young couple both in age and length of relationship. I want us to have a baby but not this early on. I don't think either of us is ready for that yet. And there are many more things I want to do with you—"

Gabriella giggled at this then reminded him of their many adventures in the past weeks. "Troy, we spent a day and night in a yacht in the French Polynesia sailing around the islands. We snorkeled, went scuba diving, jet skiing. We also went hiking and many other activities I'm sure not most couples can manage to do in such a short amount of time. We even donned those leafy costumes the natives wore and danced to weird, erotic music . . ."

He laughed then leaned his face close to whisper. "It was erotic all the way to our villa—it's still fresh in my mind, Gabi." He was rewarded by the blush that tainted her cheeks as she lightly slapped his chest and tried to temper her flushing skin. He would never tire of seeing her blush and knowing he's the one who can make her do so despite the intimacy they have shared thus far. She was both gently reared maiden and temptress and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I can't forget it too." She admitted softly after a moment. How could she forget anyway? It was their last night in Cayo Espanto and not to take away anything from the days prior they spent on vacation but that night was the most wildly erotic night of love making they spent during the entire honeymoon.

Yet aside from their frequent coupling, Gabriella discovered herself in more ways than one during their vacation. She learned to take risks, to simply let go and give her complete trust to someone. It was carefree, relaxing. It was solely about them. And it mystified her up until now, how they managed to cram so much activity into those three weeks.

But maybe when you're with someone you love, whether you're engaging in simple activities like strolling the beach or in a much more exciting one like exploring underwater life, everything is exhilarating.

And she knows, it was also the same experience for Troy.

The three weeks wasn't just a simple honeymoon. It was an adventure . . . fun, exciting, risky at times, romantic all the way but most of all getting to spend those weeks in each other's company, without the worries of work or other people, they healed both their hearts and strengthened the shaky bond that they initially had.

Troy's arm tightened more around her waist and he trailed his lips to her ear. "I should have recorded that weird music they played . . ." He whispered huskily.

"W-Why?" Gabriella stammered as Troy's lips began to nip her ear then slowly slid down to the skin just below her earlobe, making her shiver all of a sudden at the familiar jolt of electricity that came with his kisses.

She felt him smirk against her neck. "Because . . ." He uttered slowly, gently pushing the mass of ebony curls to expose her neck better to his lips. "It made you loose all your inhibitions about sex. You were brazen . . . sexy as hell . . . and wild beyond my imaginings. I loved every minute of it and I know you did too."

She couldn't deny it. She really had forgotten about reticence that night. She became as aggressive as he was. But right now, although they were in a private corner in the huge tent, they're not exactly alone. And with Troy showering her neck with kisses uncaring of the people who may see them, she fought against the haze of desire he was pulling her into. "Yes but . . . I want to do other normal—allowed in public—married couple stuff too."

He chuckled, easily lifting her small frame by the waist and sitting her on top of a working table by the obscured corner of the space they were in. "I'm new to this married status, babe. You're gonna have to be more specific than that coz' right now with you pliant in my arms and wearing this incredibly hot swimsuit, I can only think of one thing to do." Then, he proceeded to kissing her exposed shoulders.

He didn't have to say it. Gabriella could feel what he had in mind and she wanted it too but before she succumbed to the desire he was slowly weaving her into which might force her to ditch rationality, she tried to divert his lavish attention by saying, "I'd love to . . . ride a Ferris wheel with you."

"I want to ride a hot air balloon with you." He said hot air like it was supposed to mean something other than what it literally is. His voice low and raspy and to Gabriella's ears, sounded so damn seductive. "But most of all . . ." He paused to very slowly ease down the single strap holding her swim suit up. "I want to walk the streets of L.A while holding your hand."

"I'd like that, Troy . . . stop." She fairly groaned, grasping his hand to stop it from disrobing her. "Not here . . . please behave . . . you're ruining my make up . . ." There was not an ounce of steadfastness in her voice.

He let up on her shoulder to grin at her. "You don't need make up. You have a post honeymoon glow working for you. No make up can look as good as that." Then, swiftly, he held the back of her head and claimed her lips for a deep, sensual kiss, neither giving her time to decline nor catch a breath.

"What are you two doing—oh hell no—stop being perverts! This isn't your honeymoon anymore." Sharpay screeched from out of the blue making Troy and Gabriella jump apart in surprise. "There are no husbands allowed in here, Bolton!"

Troy's gaze landed on the affronted blonde that bore a disbelieving look and who was wearing a more colorful and psychedelic designed swimsuit than Gabriella. He opened his mouth to defend his presence but Sharpay was quick to cut him off, wagging a polished finger at him. "Ah-ah, don't use _'this is my property'_ speech on me and I don't care that you let us use this place for free—no exceptions!" She gestured her finger toward the tent's exit. "Go!"

Gabriella giggled, averting Troy's head to face her and giving him a brief kiss on the lips which made him grin back. "Sorry Mr. Bolton, even if you own this place and you're looking so hot in this tux, I'm afraid there are no special treatments." She said exaggeratedly batting her lashes at him in a flirtatious manner.

He laughed heartily, hugging her tighter to his body and leaning his forehead to hers. "I'm crushed, Mrs. Bolton. But since I'm feeling very magnanimous tonight, I will let this pass . . . for now."

"Oh my god. Enough of this crazy flirting! Some of us just ate!" Sharpay heaved with exasperation and grabbed Troy by the sleeve of his black suit, forcibly separating him from Gabriella to push him through the tent flaps. "I'm ready to throw up in my mouth."

While he let himself be dragged by Sharpay, Troy winked at Gabriella as she giggled and blew him a kiss. "We'll talk with Grandpa tomorrow." He called out before being pushed away.

"This is bordering on ridiculous and sickening, you know. Express your overflowing love for each other on your own time! People want to go about their daily lives without having to witness an R rated fairytale unfolding."

"We just came back from our honeymoon, you know." Troy retorted, straightening his suit. He has gotten used to Sharpay blowing a gasket that her exaggerated out burst did not evoke any strong reaction from him.

"Right. That explains a lot." Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Admit it already! You don't like the idea of her parading out there that's why you all but raped her just now to let everyone know she's yours."

"I don't mind her parading out there." He coolly replied.

"Yeah, sure." Sharpay snorted, not buying the casualness of his façade. "And the possessive streak just disappeared after three weeks on honeymoon. I remember all too well how much you were against Gabriella modeling for this."

"I remember that too."

"And?"

"I'm not against it now."

That made her brow rise higher than normal. "Doesn't bother you?"

He grinned complacently, knowing why she was being persistent. "Nope."

"Damn!" Sharpay exclaimed after a moment of assessing him, her arms flying upwards. "Your calm exterior just sucked the fun out of me. I was so looking forward to seeing you stony faced and uncomfortable in the front row."

"Too bad." Troy expressed with an irreverent grin. "Hey, maybe Chad will get uncomfortable when you get out there."

She narrowed her eyes at him, warning him to choose his words carefully. "Don't even go there, Bolton. There's nothing going on between us."

Unfortunately for Sharpay, the warning is lost on him. "Yeah and I'm not married to Gabi." Then with a quick, "You look great, by the way. Chad will drool." Troy swiftly turned his back on her and left in the direction of the gathered audience.

* * *

"What took you so long? The show's about to start." Chad asked, noting the smirk that played on his lips, as soon as Troy sat down on the seat next to him. "Don't tell me—that leer on your face—"

"You think dirty thoughts, Danforth." Troy replied, tapping Chad's back in a sympathetic manner. "Can't say I blame you . . . the excitement of seeing Sharpay in a skimpy piece must be affecting your thinking."

Chad leaned back a little to stare blankly at him. "What?"

Troy chuckled softly, his lively blue eyes lurking with mischief. "Nothing. Just trying to wrap my mind on the idea of you two together." He shook his head and straightened on his seat.

Eyeing his friend critically for a few moments, Chad insisted, "We are not together! Why are you smiling like that?!"

"Like what?"

"Like a fat kid that just ate a whole cake. That kind of smile."

With quiet laughter, Troy dismissed Chad's analogy and casually mentioned, "I invited Paolo here. He called Gabi while we were in Le Taha'a."

Chad's head and hair snapped sideways in Troy's direction. "Why would you do that? Sharpay will kill you!" He hissed. "Her and him are not on speaking terms. She's doing her best to forget him and you inviting him will only make it harder for her to do so."

Slightly taken aback by the intensity in Chad's tone and the unexpected reaction, Troy realized that he managed to somehow annoy his best friend by the mere mention of Paolo's name and it looked like he's ready to pound him for overstepping his boundaries. "He declined."

"Good." Chad rejoined, his body loosing its tension.

"Are you disliking on Paolo in behalf of Sharpay?"

"I dislike him because of what he did to Sharpay. He's an ass. Him and Landis are the perfect match. No wonder they found each other."

"Ah." Troy breathed, undecided on what to make of Chad's strong aversion to Paolo. He was speaking as if he was the one spurned by Paolo. Chad's protectiveness only goes to extremes when his family is involved or when someone he cares about is—a light bulb switched in Troy's head. "You care for her. Something happened between you two while Gabi and I were away!"

"She's my friend! I care for my friends." Chad reasoned defensively. "Why are we having this conversation? This is girl talk!"

"Avoiding the topic—you definitely like her." Troy jeered enjoying Chad's unease. "Hey, no worries, I won't tell her."

"There's nothing to tell! While Gabriella was preoccupied with you in your honeymoon, I offered to help her get over Paolo. It's the least I could do after she explained my side to Marge, the date I stood up the night Landis came back, and put me back in good graces with her. Marge is a great girl."

"How are you helping her exactly?"

"We hang out mostly. Clubbing . . . going out with friends." Chad shrugged as if to show what he did for Sharpay isn't a big deal. "I also set her up a few times on dates. It worked out well, surprisingly."

"With who?"

"The last was with Zeke. They seem to be getting along."

Troy considered this for a moment, looked to the seated guests, then asked. "Is this _great girl_ Marge here? Or is Zeke?"

"No."

"And that proves my point." Troy whistled quietly and grinned just as the Kylie Minogue's song Wow began playing in the background and the lights dimmed to signal the start of the show. "I know you have your eyes trained on one girl but enjoy the show, Chad."

"Shut up. That's you not me." Chad countered, giving Troy a light shove with his shoulders. "We know you have eyes for Gabs alone."

"Of course!"

"You're a sap."

Troy crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged nonchalantly, looking straight at the now brightly lit stage as the first of the model came walking out the long platform that extended to the seated audience amidst the blare of music, clapping and dancing lights bouncing on and off the stage. "So? At least I'm not in denial."

"Just shut up, will you? I want to see the show without you twittering in my ear."

Troy merely laughed at Chad's annoyance before his eyes were glued to the stage, anticipating Gabriella's turn. After six more models came out, she revealed her gorgeous self to the gathered audience. The clapping escalated. There were loud cheers from Troy's cousins, followed by several pats on his shoulder and from somewhere in the crowd a number of appreciative hoots were heard.

But Troy ignored it all.

His azure eyes were trained on the brown ones who also kept a steady hold of his gaze as she strutted like a professional model along the stage. Gabriella smiled more brightly when he showed her his charming smile. She felt very confident when he clapped and gave her a thumb up.

She was elated to be on stage with Troy watching her every step as though he's silently saying he's proud to show her off and with his unbreakable gaze, tell everyone present that sadly for them, she's very much taken.

And happy to be so.

* * *

A/N: Apologies are definitely in order for the loooong delay in posting this. More than a month, I think. Sorry, guys. I've been hella busy these past weeks—I still am—making it harder for me to find time to write and also, I got sick which sucked big time. But anyway, here you go. One last chapter left then it's the end for MTP. Sigh. I feel kinda sad…

Thank you so much to all my readers, especially those who spared the time to leave a review and to those who sent me PM's…I love you guys!


	30. Chapter 30 Just Right

Chapter 30

_**AN**: This is loooong overdue and most of you might be annoyed with me already for the long wait. I can't blame you. I would be irked too if I were in your shoes but work really takes over my time a whole lot so the process of writing this finale chapter took months as I can only spend a few minutes every other day to write. Plus, my muse left me for awhile and as some of you may know, without the good ol' muse, writing is an utter fail. Regardless, I still apologize for the delay. So here's the last chapter, the end for MTP. (I feel sad actually.) I hope I don't disappoint any of you. You're all wonderful readers and generous reviewers. I feel so lucky to have so many reviews, alerts & pm's considering this is my very first story here so for that, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. (Just imagine that in big, fat, glowy letters.) :D_

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Sad, I know._

* * *

Looking around the ostentatious office, Gabriella noticed the changes that were made since the last time she was here. The furniture was new and had a different arrangement. The walls looked brand new as well as the choice of art, from the paintings to the ornaments adorning every table in the room**.**

Marissa has a penchant for getting rid of old stuff in favor of the modern, trendier things so it didn't really come as a surprise to Gabriella when she entered the office to see things have changed.

The unwelcoming vibe of the place was still there though and she feels it but forced herself to ignore the eeriness, crediting her unease to the woman who once again summoned for her presence without telling her why and who was sitting in her high backed chair looking at her strangely.

Gabriella wouldn't call it malicious, menacing or even an aggressive stare. Far from it. In fact, she'll be bold enough to say, Marissa is looking at her like she's trying to see past her exterior, trying to see something she had previously overlooked. She was seated in her usual rigid posture but her eyes were soft and slightly in awe that it almost didn't go well with her expressionless face.

Weary. And sad was what came to mind as Gabriella met her gaze squarely. She doesn't care for her and she doesn't want to stay here longer than was necessary but she had to admit she was a little bit curious why her stepmother wasn't her usual stoic, evil self.

"Why did you want me here?" Gabriella asked as she gracefully slid on the chair by her glass desk, monitoring her voice for signs of sarcasm. She didn't want to fight. At this stage in her life, especially today, she's much too happy to be fighting with anyone even her stepmother.

Instead of speaking, Marissa relaxed her posture to pull out a large envelope from the drawer next to her and she slid it across the glass table. When Gabriella made no move to touch the thick envelope, she said. "Open it."

Reluctantly, she complied with a bit of nervousness letting her fingers glide over the smooth dark yellow paper and pulling out the documents inside the envelope. Her eyes quickly scanned the writing on what appears to be the first page of a legal paper. For a brief second her fevered opinion of the woman making her think she was slapping her again with another legal clause from her father's will which she had violated or failed to abide by but as she reached the end of the page, she realized it was nothing like that.

She looked up and couldn't prevent herself from gaping at Marissa who still looked indifferent. "Does this mean what I think it means?" Gabriella did not bother hiding her shock.

"Yes." Marissa replied after a curt nod and an intake of breath then she leaned back on her chair before continuing. "Your inheritance . . . it's yours. I'm giving it to you now. No more strings attached." Her tone was flat but it couldn't hide the obvious protest of her feelings. To Gabriella's ears, it was like a rehearsed speech. Something she's only forced to say.

"I've only been married for three years, Marissa. The will says five." She reminded her. Sensing the inner battle probably going inside Marissa's head, Gabriella wasn't stupid to fall for her trap. With their history, it was looking like this is one. "I get my inheritance in two years."

"That already has my signature, Gabriella. The reason why I asked you here is for you to sign it too so we can be over this legality." She explained with a tip-off of impatience straining her detached demeanor. "Then it's all yours."

Gabriella tried to smooth her features into polite confusion and eyed her stepmother openly. She doesn't have the desire to stress herself emotionally nor physically and she still feels the blissful bubble around her that's preventing her from flaring up at the woman who's a master at manipulating people.

At close range, Gabriella could easily see the taunt face which obviously was a result of surgery defined by a pointy chin, hollow cheeks and thin arched brows. Marissa's emotionless face was pale despite the carefully applied make up and her eyes were surprisingly gloomy as it gazed into hers.

"Why?" She insisted, not wanting to believe the sudden kindness and generosity had no motive behind it. She's convinced that Marissa is scheming again. "Why the sudden—did something happen I don't know about?"

Marissa negated it with a shake of the head. Then sighed wearily as she closed her eyes for a split second, giving Gabriella the impression it's more than just physical exhaustion she feels and that explaining her reasons would completely drain her. "You won, Gabriella." She stated. "There's no point for me to hold on to your inheritance for two years more when I know you and Troy plan on staying married beyond that. I don't have an ulterior motive behind this, believe it or not. I know when to stop playing a game and this is the time."

"I wasn't aware we had been playing a game." Gabriella said with polite firmness, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned away from the table. "And what makes you think I will flat out believe anything you say? Please give me more credit than my father. I know you better than he did."

To Gabriella's surprise, Marissa chuckled softly and her grey eyes gained some smiling light in them as she kept her gaze on her. "He knows me too." She revealed as if the fact was something of an irony. "He gave me all these with the condition that I can't transfer or donate any money or property to any relative, friend, acquaintance or even a random person. He gave me a huge chunk of his asset so that I can live alone."

"I don't understand."

"If you didn't pass out the day of the reading of the will or bothered to read the will on your spare time, you'd have known this." She stressed. "I own everything he left me but only and only when I don't remarry or form any romantic relationship with another man, have a child either by birth or thru adoption. Otherwise, all these will be yours." She uttered dryly. "You can ask your father's lawyers. Unless I stay this way, alone and unable to be with the person I lov—want, I am merely an overseer to his estates until it can be transferred to you. So what's the point in letting you wait for your inheritance?"

Cloaked in astonishment and a small grain of mistrust at the information Marissa had willingly spilled, Gabriella was rendered speechless. Her mind was reeling. Instinctively she started assessing her feelings, digging deep inside herself to make some kind of rational sense of this. If her stepmother whom she had always thought as the kind of person who does things only when it is beneficial to her or will serve a greater purpose, currently looking haggard and dejected in front of her, could be believed, she realized with a pang of guilt that all these time the hatred she felt for her father was misplaced and unwarranted.

Her father did not betray her trust as she originally decided. Even while he was ill, Marissa wasn't able to dupe him like she thought. In fact, it was the opposite. And instead of leaving her daughter at the mercy of his second wife, he cleverly reversed their situation by tying Marissa to a life she doesn't want in exchange for the wealth that she was so eager to possess. And either way things goes, the Montez wealth will still be hers in the end . . . all of it.

_I love you, Daddy. _Her mind whispered from out of the blue as she sat in silence overwhelmed by the strong feelings that suddenly assailed her. _I'm sorry for doubting you._ She never stopped loving her father. It was just the pain and the shock of her arranged marriage brought on by his death overshadowed that love. She was forced to deal with the hurt by pushing that love aside and Marissa was a cunning person who took advantage of it.

"Take it with you and go over it with your own lawyer, if you wish." Marissa broke the silence gesturing to the papers.

Realizing she was being dismissed, Gabriella shook her head to clear it and slowly gathered the documents while casting fleeting glances at Marissa who already busied herself reading and signing the papers that were given by her secretary earlier.

"Stop looking at me." Marissa snapped, making Gabriella draw back slightly at the sudden fire shooting from her eyes. "I hope you're happy now, knowing that whichever way I decide to go, in the end you'll still get everything your parents own."

There was anger, regret and self loathing in Marissa's tone. But instead of retorting back at the woman like she would on any other day, Gabriella felt nothing but pity for her. Maybe she could attribute it to her current condition and the happiness she feels for what the coming days holds for her and Troy and their marriage—something that her stepmother will never get to experience.

"I am happy, Marissa." She avowed quietly, taking the older woman by surprise since she was expecting no less than a biting response from Gabriella. "But it's not because of the money . . . it was never about the money." She insisted unwaveringly looking straight into her eyes to make her understand. "I only wanted something that had a connection to my parents and this was it." She raised the envelope in hand. "It doesn't matter what I get. Even if they only left me a dog or a book or a letter, I'll be contented because it's from them." She paused and smiled at her stepmother who felt slightly unnerved by the serene smile. "I'm sorry you can't be with the person you love. I'm sorry you had to live a life you don't want—for a time I experienced first hand what that felt like—but in your case, Marissa, there's no one to blame other than yourself and you know it. You didn't love my father when you married him and he must've felt it somehow."

"What difference would it have made if I did love him?" Marissa asked then she answered her own question in the next breath. "Absolutely nothing!" There was no shame, denial or apology in her words. "He loved your mother with every bit of himself. When she died, his heart and whatever love he had to give to others died with her."

"I know." Gabriella admitted remembering she also felt the change in her father after the tragic loss of her mother. It was painful knowing you can't depend on the one person you're counting on for comfort.

"Just go." Marissa muttered with a hand gesture to the door then carelessly tossed her gold pen on top of the papers she was signing to massage her temple.

Envelope in hand and her bag slung over her shoulder, Gabriella slid from her chair and stepped away from the table to head for the door. As she held the handle, a thought suddenly leapt to mind making her stop and turn back. "Marissa?"

The older woman looked up and narrowed her eyes at her. Irritation evident in them probably because she was still in her office. But before she could open her mouth to make a snarky retort, Gabriella quickly spilled her question. "Why Troy?"

"What?!"

"Why did you choose Troy for me to marry?" She clarified. It really doesn't matter now whatever Marissa's reasons were for picking Troy, but Gabriella, out of curiosity, still wanted to know.

The stern line of her mouth relaxed and after a few seconds of silence, probably debating whether she should tell Gabriella what she knew or not, Marissa heaved a sigh and opted for the former. "I didn't. Your father did. In a separate letter addressed to me thru his lawyers to make sure I follow his wishes, he stated who he wanted for you. Ask your father in law and Patrick Reiss. Apparently, they were friends of his."

Gabriella gave her a long uncertain glance. This had become a day of surprising revelations all in her favor and she wondered if there's anything else she doesn't know regarding her own father. But Marissa did not say any more. She averted her gaze from her to the papers on the desk, putting an end to their conversation and subtly telling her to leave.

Taking the hint, without a parting word, Gabriella opened the door and exited. Leaning against the wooden doors as they closed behind her, she paused for a brief moment before walking toward the waiting elevators to gather her thoughts and emotions.

As she stepped out of the building to the ride waiting for her, she felt a wonderful kind peace and the pain in her heart that was caused by her father's shortcomings as a parent was finally lifted. It doesn't matter what else she doesn't know about her father because whatever it was he planned, it was all to protect her. And for Gabriella that's enough to fill the hollow part in her heart.

"What happened in there?" Chad, her designated driver for the day, piped in interrupting her silent musings after noticing the faraway look on her face. "Nothing bad, I hope."

She shook her head as she clipped the seatbelt and smiled at his worried face. "It wasn't. Don't worry."

"Gabs, Troy doesn't want you near your stepmother. He told so me before he left for Chicago and you know this." He reminded with something akin to fright, looking to the side mirror as he moved the car. "He'll kill me if he finds out I let you coerce me into driving you here and really, Gabs, I don't want a repeat of that quarrel you two had last year. That was—" He paused to ponder on an appropriate word to use. "That was one major blah."

"Blah? That's not even a word, Chad." She rolled her eyes but kept a grin on her lips.

"So what? It was still blah! You know what, make that blah an ugh. You know why?" He asked giving Gabriella a brief stern look and when she shook her head innocently, he said, "Because I was in the middle of it! I had nothing to do with whatever it was that you disagreed on but I was stuck with having to hear you stating your case in my left ear then telling me how my best friend can be an insensitive, arrogant, unreasonable prick sometimes—which is true, by the way—while Troy was arguing his point in my right. Yet when you're both in the same room it's a silent war going on. You two drive me crazy!"

Gabriella couldn't contain her bubble of laughter any longer. Chad's exasperated tone combined with the reminder of that fight which is already hazy in her memory as to what caused it made the sound escape from her lips. "I'm sorry." She amended on a laugh which made Chad smirk. "I don't even remember anymore what we fought about."

"The pair of you have your moments . . . most of the time though you're sickeningly sweet with each other."

"You and Pay have your moments too." Gabriella teased knowing that Chad hated people insinuating there's more than just simple friendship going on between him and Sharpay.

Surprisingly, Chad merely snorted and shook his head. "Just don't tell Troy about this."

"Chad!" She breathed, laughing, realizing that the apprehension he was showing was more for his well being than for her encounter with Marissa. "I wasn't planning on keeping this from Troy. He'll find out sooner or later anyway. I'd rather he hear it from me than from someone else. Besides, even though the meeting with Marissa was unexpected and strange, in a way it gave me good information and peace of mind. I'm glad I came."

"Okay, sure, tell him but do it when he's in a chipper mood like at his party tomorrow or—after you give him his birthday—sex. That way he won't have enough energy left to think or argue."

Gabriella slapped his arm, making him wince on contact. "I am telling him."

"Great. I'm so dead."

* * *

Troy arrived that night, a little after ten, just as Gabriella emerged from their bathroom, barefooted and wrapped in a towel too short to reach half her thighs. Her attention on drying her long curls, she didn't see him smirking mischievously at her oblivious self.

It wasn't until he drawled, "Babe, you make me think wicked and delicious thoughts.", that Gabriella jumped in surprise and was finally alerted of his presence, casually seated on the bed, leaning back slightly with his arms angled as support and looking at her with mesmerizing blue eyes that swam with desire.

For a moment she stood still, taking in the sight of him in his usual jeans, shirt and jacket with his trademark messy hair and that charming little smile showing on his lips every time his eyes are focused on her.

She claims that smile and that intense look in his mesmerizing blue orbs as hers. It's the smile and the stare that's reserved only for her. He said so himself. And it never fails to make her heart flutter.

She had thought long and hard how best to reveal the wonderful news to him. All day she thought of ways how to tell him but each time she discarded them, either it was too cheesy, too grand or too blunt. Thankfully, she was able to think of a way and Chad had been available to be her driver for the day without asking too many questions.

As of the now, no one knew save for her and one other person. She hasn't told Sharpay, as much as she wants to. She wanted to cherish the knowledge on her own first then she wants Troy to share with that knowledge before their family and friends get wind of it.

Troy raised a brow at her, wondering why she was keeping her distance and seemed unsure how to approach him. He wondered even more when she gazed at the carpet for some minutes before reluctantly lifting her eyes again.

Gabriella bit her lower lip to keep a giggle from escaping past her lips seeing his confusion. Normally, whenever Troy is away for days, upon his return a very enthusiastic wife welcomes him. But not tonight. She wanted to tease him a bit. Make him wait. Make him wonder. "You're early coming back." She said forcing a straight face.

He frowned then, loosing his relaxed pose on the bed to straighten his back and eye her thoughtfully as if trying to visualize the inner workings of her brain. "I missed you too." He said, standing. "And I think you should stop this and greet me properly."

Gabriella nodded, doing her best not to speak even as she was bursting with happiness and excitement. She wants to just blurt it out and see his reaction but it was better if she waited for tomorrow. After all, it is his birthday and she couldn't think of a better present than the one she's trying very hard to contain.

She took muted steps toward him, her gaze seem to be fixed with fascination on the carpet of their room which irked Troy a little bit. She wasn't even that absorbed when they first moved into the master's bedroom and she saw how enormous it really was and that the design worked well to compliment both their styles and was functional but cozy at the same time.

He was about to ask if anything was wrong or if something happened while he was away but when her bare toes were touching the tips of his shoes, she looked to his eyes then gave him a beautiful smile.

Troy released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Sensing it, she giggled softly and it brought a mischievous gleam to her eyes. "I missed you." She whispered while her hand slowly lifted to gently caress his cheek then slid down to his neck, one finger lightly touching the pulse at the base of his throat. It was a seductive gesture and Troy took it as it is.

Groaning, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her lithe figure against him. He bent down to touch his lips to hers, lightly at first, then claiming with demanding insistence. Gabriella slid her arms around his neck, clinging to him as her mouth meshed with his hungrily. It was too many days away from each other, too much attraction, too much passion to contain.

They kissed like overzealous teenagers who had only begun to discover the wonders of intimacy and couldn't seem to get enough of it. Troy skimmed his hands on the side of her thigh, trailing up to her bare and perfectly rounded behind before setting a firm grip on her waist, lifting her up slightly as he kissed from her mouth to the smooth column of her neck, the line of her slick shoulder and back to her swollen lips.

It didn't take long for Troy to carry Gabriella to their bed, rid her of the towel and discard his own clothes with a little help from her. His familiar hands, his warm mouth traveled over her body in ways that had her gasping and begging for more. And she did the same to him, showing him how much he means, how much she really did miss him and how much she loves him.

When both their senses are at a height and neither could prolong the inevitable joining of bodies, Troy hovered over her, lifting her leg a little to align their bodies, looking deep into her eyes and whispered, "I love you."

Steadying her breathing and the pounding of her heart, Gabriella reached up a hand to his cheek loving the stubble that defined his jaw. They had done this so many times that at one point she began to fear it would become monotonous. But it didn't. Each time they touched, they had grown closer, more attuned to the others needs and feelings. Each time familiar yet more exciting, passionate than the one before it. They shamelessly craved each other and instead of lessening, that craving intensifies more and more at every touch.

Her love, like his own, showed in her dark stormy eyes. "I love you—" Her body suddenly arched towards him, meeting him as he swiftly entered her. "Oh god, Troy . . . I missed you . . ."

Troy kissed her, groaning at the feeling of her walls clasping him, and blindly threaded their hands together. He raised her arms on either side of her head on the pillow, stretching her frame beneath him and he whispered against her lips, "Not as much as I missed you." Then he demonstrated just how much exactly he missed her.

* * *

"I can't believe it." Paolo rasped, his face clearly showing that disbelief as he leaned his back on the couch and absently played with played with the bottle in his hand. "I—never in a million years did I expect Heskin to be that _openhanded_. Did you?"

Troy chuckled, took a swig of his own drink and shook his head. "Nope. I had the same reaction last night when she told me." The hand resting on Gabriella's waist tightened as he slightly tipped his head to her and offered her a fluted glass of champagne that were being served around by waitresses in the venue where his birthday party is being held. Gabriella accepted the bubbly drink only to set the glass down back on the table.

"Well, generosity had nothing to do with it." Sharpay injected as she fidgeted on the couch craning her neck amongst the crowd searching for Chad. Her opinion of the woman unchanged despite what Gabriella told them. "Marissa's options are nonexistent but I bet you if she had another way, things could've been very different."

"Thanks to Mr. Montez for planning several steps ahead, otherwise . . ." Troy trailed off and Gabriella smiled at the underlying respect she heard in his tone. When she told Troy last night after they made love about what transpired in Marissa's office his sleepiness gave way to shock then confusion. He was doubtful of Marissa's actions but he had listened to Gabriella as she cuddled up next to him expressing her thoughts about what she discovered regarding her father, enveloping her in a comforting embrace when she shed tears and later on assuring her how much her parents must've loved her just as he does.

Then, Troy made her laugh with comments about setting Jack and Patrick on a lie detector machine to wring the truth from them regarding their friendship with the late Antonio Montez.

Sharpay suddenly raised an arm in a wave after spotting the person she had been scanning the crowd for. "Okay, friends and birthday boy, I gotta go." Then she fluttered off.

"She's still avoiding me." Paolo stated with a twinge of regret, his eyes followed Sharpay's back.

Gabriella reached out a hand to Paolo, quickly forgetting their topic about Marissa. "No, Paolo." She insisted. "She doesn't hate you either. It's just awkward for her now after what happened. Give it some more time."

"I should probably stay in her apartment while I'm here to ease the awkwardness." Paolo looked to Troy and Gabriella as if asking for opinion or assent. "Before . . . I always stay there when I'm in L.A . . ."

"No, man, Gabi's right. Give it more time. Besides, Sharpay knows you're already staying in our house—and you can stay as long as you like even if you didn't get me a birthday present." Troy patted Paolo's shoulder in a friendly manner while Paolo swatted his hand away and grunted a mock sarcastic retort, making Gabriella secretly smile at how normal their interaction is. It's like they've always been this brotherly. She doesn't know when and how the tension between them got patched up. And until now she still can't forget her shock when Paolo appeared in Albuqueque early last year supposedly invited by Troy to join the Bolton's family outing. But however these two men in her life became friends, she's perfectly happy with how everything turned out to be.

"Also, my dear brother, I don't think it will sit well with Laura when she finds out you decided to stay with Sharpay." Gabriella reminded, referring to Paolo's girlfriend of eight months. Laura had been a long time friend of his and, from what Gabriella knows, Laura was the one that made it easier for Paolo to get over Julie.

"You know Sharpay better than I do, Paolo." Troy continued to say on a slightly serious note. "A sudden change of lodging will make her suspicious and I doubt if she'll let you stay with her."

Paolo expelled a heavy breath and looked to the group of girls chatting animated with Sharpay, a fleeting sadness crossing his handsome features before he retorted in a resigned but joking voice, "Well, I know it's your birthday, Troy, but I just hate it when you're right."

* * *

"Why did you choose this place for my party?" Troy murmured as he kissed Gabriella's temple while they danced to the slow music along with some of the guest. The party had been well underway. The small program hosted by Chad and Sharpay, participated by colleagues, Reiss corporation employees, friends and family for the sole purpose of either singing him praises, wishing him all kinds of wishes from the generic good health and happiness to the outrageous and even ridiculous ones, was done and most were minding their own business, chatting up other guests or some sampling the wine selection a little too much.

Either way, Troy didn't mind. He was perfectly contented dancing with his wife.

He felt her giggle before she slightly drew away from his hold and gazed at him with naughtiness in her shining brown eyes. "Don't you remember?"

Troy hesitated, torn between recalling the significance of the place and the curiosity that had been growing in his thoughts as to why Gabriella seemed to be glowing which he ascertained in part had little to do with his birthday celebration or the aqua colored dress she's wearing that had been complimented several times since their arrival. "Gabi, I'm so sorry." He doesn't want to hurt her feelings since as Sharpay rambled on earlier Gabriella had carefully planned this party for him. "But I need help remembering."

She rolled her eyes showing some disappointment but there was a smile on her lips. "This is where we were first introduced, Mr. Bolton." She reminded with a light poke to his chest. "How could you forget our first meeting?"

He scanned the restaurant which Gabriella had reserved solely for this occasion then as soon as his eyes widened, she knew he found that memory. Troy laughed softly and pulled her close by the waist. "You were wearing a faded brown shirt that was probably two sizes too big for you, a pair of baggy pants that did a good job making you look like you were living in the streets and well worn flipflops! You wore those ugly brown flipflops." He related, the memory of that day coming to him clearly. "You deglamorized yourself on purpose."

Gabriella laughed as well, impulsively looping her arms at his nape. "In my defense, the reason for the drastic action was because I wasn't ecstatic to meet my soon to be husband. So in a moment of desperation I thought I'd appear looking like a bedraggled female hoping you'd be so disgusted of me, you'll convince your parents to stop the ridiculous arrangement."

He nodded as if accepting her statement to be logical. "I'm glad I wasn't so disgusted of you then."

"Oh, you were disgusted!" Gabriella said emphatically as they continued to wear smiles on their faces, uncaring and unmindful, like they often are, of the other people in the venue who were openly observing their little interaction with rapt smiles on their faces. "I remember you looked at me from head to toe with narrowed eyes and your brows drawn inward."

"Okay, I admit I was a bit bothered by how you dressed." Troy conceded. "You did a good job dressing to turn off a future husband."

"Sharpay helped. I don't know where she got those clothes and at that time I really didn't care because they looked perfect for my intention."

Tipping her chin up to drop a brief kiss to her luscious lips, Troy leaned his forehead to hers while still moving to the slow music. "I knew that best friend of yours is against me ever since." He joked then added in a voice that dropped down to a whisper. "But it didn't matter how you looked like when we first met because during our wedding, you stunned me with your lovely self."

"Such a charmer!"

"I only speak the truth." Troy declared pompously.

Gabriella laughed a bit louder throwing her head back and laughing some more, causing a few more of the guests who weren't used to seeing them the way they normal are—as Chad labeled, sickeningly sweet—to look at them.

"Do you want to stay here longer or shall we go?" Troy asked when their merriment subsided and he looked past her head to see a lot of the guests were either grinning at them or whispering about them.

"I still have to give you my gift." Gabriella said, smiling as she followed Troy's eyes.

His blue pools darkened. "Babe, I'd like to have your gift when we get home."

"Troy!" Gabriella smacked his chest to get his mind to focus and not wander onto other avenues. "Not that kind of gift. You get that almost everyday, mister."

He grinned passing off an innocent look. "You don't have to give me a gift, babe. Your time and effort into organizing this wonderful party with all of our friends and family in attendance is already a gift to me. I'm happy with everything."

"Don't you want be to happier?" Gabriella asked as she pulled him along towards the back of the restaurant where a private section was closed off. She had instructed the organizers that it will be occupied only by her and Troy and no one else.

Looking at the rose colored couch, the glass table with scented candles, the round frilly pillows and the sliding wood door separating the room from the chaos and noise of the party, Troy plopped down on the couch, thankful to be away from prying eyes and then he pulled Gabriella to sit across his lap.

"So about this gift . . ." He began, planting light kisses along her neck and exposed shoulders.

Giggling, Gabriella pressed a finger over his lips to stop him from distracting her then she eased off of his lap to reach the cube shaped pastel blue box placed on the glass table.

"Gabi, you indulge me way too much." Troy said as he embraced her from behind.

Ignoring his mild protests, she handed him the box with slightly trembling hands and an uneasy smile. She felt suddenly nervous which was stupid considering her excitement all day yesterday and today and the fact that what she's giving him is more than a gift or a good news. "Open it." She urged him when he looked to her curiously. "Tell me what you think."

Carefully, slowly, Troy lifted the cover. He tried to guess from her expression what could be inside the box to make her seem giddy and uncertain at the same time. Gabriella had her lower lip caught between her teeth and her eyes alternately looked from his hands opening the box and to his face to witness his initial reaction once her gift is revealed. Troy deduced whatever it was he was about to see in the lightweight box must be so important to Gabriella for her to act the way she was now. And for some reason that made him feel some nervousness too. He could feel his heart thumping a little bit faster.

Setting the cover on the couch next to his hip, Troy peered inside with no expectations. He just knew that whatever it was Gabriella gives him, he would cherish because it's from her. But what was inside the box definitely surprised Troy after a second of confusion and the smile that had been lingering on his lips disappeared as he took out the pair of white knitted bootees and held them at eye level.

"This is . . . a baby's . . ." He spoke after several minutes of finding his voice and still he couldn't come up with a coherent thing to say. He gazed intently at Gabriella's smiling face, her shining eyes, her glowing features and finally he understood why she has a different aura about her, why she didn't take any wine that was being served, why she looks so blissful and so beautiful now more than ever. "Really?"

Gabriella had tears in her eyes as she watched Troy realize what her gift meant. She blames her emotionality on pregnancy hormones but the sudden enlightenment that appeared on Troy's face and the play of several positive emotions that were in his eyes was more than enough to tell her he's as happy, as ecstatic as she was and maybe even more. "I'm two weeks along." She told him, laying a hand on her still flat belly.

They had wanted to have a baby since last year. As soon as they talked about their mutual desire to have a family of their own, Gabriella stopped taking birth control and both had had regular visits to the doctor to make sure they're physically able and healthy, especially Gabriella, to have a baby. The desire wasn't one of urgency. It was more of readiness and the comforting feeling that making a family is something they can do on their own. Something they can do the right way. Something that wasn't pressured or forced on them by other people.

Troy cradled the bootees on his hands regarding it like a fragile object and his face split into a wide grin. "We're gonna have a baby." He whispered as if to share a well kept secret then he gently pulled Gabriella back on his lap and they clung to each other in a long, silent embrace, the bootees crushed between them.

"Happy birthday, Troy." She nuzzled her nose to his with her eyes closed, reveling in their shared joy.

"It is." He gruffly uttered against her lips before tenderly kissing her. "It really is."

Almost an hour later, they came back to the roomful of people in the party. Some hardly noticed their absence. Some did and among them were Troy's parents, his cousin's, Chad, Sharpay and Paolo.

They were all huddled together near the bar in a deep discussion of sorts when Troy and Gabriella joined them, ceasing all conversations as they focused attention on the hand holding pair.

"And they show themselves!" Sharpay immediately exclaimed, suspiciously looking at their appearance. "Oh please don't tell me you did what I think you did."

It was followed by Jack. "Where have you been?"

"More people arrived and they were looking for you, Troy."

"I stand by what I said." Chad avowed, gesturing to their joined hands and their happy smiles. "Sickeningly sweet."

"They have a master's degree in public display of affection."

"Yup."

Troy held up a hand to stop them while Gabriella moved away from him to stand between Sharpay, Alicia and Paolo, hugging the three of them and apologizing for their absence. "Is something wrong, Gabriella?" Alicia inquired, baffled by her daughter in law's strange behavior.

"Nothing's wrong, Mom." She assured Troy's mother, linking her arm in affection. "I just gave Troy a gift and he's happy with it."

Sharpay raised a brow, throwing Troy an assessing look who was having the same conversation with the guys then back at Gabriella. "It must've been a huge gift if it took you nearly an hour to finish the gift giving?"

Gabriella simply laughed, then also linked her other arm with Sharpay.

"You're acting so weird, Ella. You both are. What's going on really?" Paolo voiced aloud just as Adam mocked Troy, "Dude, you're twenty seven. You're getting old!"

Troy smiled. He cast a meaningful glance to Alicia and Jack who were looking slightly confused then settled on Gabriella keeping eye contact with her as he casually responded to Adam, "No . . . I get to be a dad now."

Adam was ready to laugh but like the rest of them he was stunned into silence by the unexpected response. It was Alicia that broke through the wordless pause with her gasp as Troy held out the bootees for them to see and before Troy knew it everyone was speaking all at once. Gabriella was quickly passed around, hugged, kissed and congratulated by each of them while Troy received several pats on the back and a tight hug from both his parents before they told him to call his grandfather who had left the party early.

Amidst the excitement that surrounded their family and friends and later on got picked up by most of the guests, Gabriella ended the call with a delighted Patrick and found her way again next to Troy. Her head settled just below his chin where she could hear his steady heartbeat and his arm wrapped protectively around her as they watched everyone in the room having a good time.

She took a peek at him through russet lashes as she felt his hand lazily rubbing her stomach over the soft material of her dress and smiled when she found he was looking at her too. There was glee, contentment, admiration, respect, trust and most of all love in their eyes that words were unnecessary to express them all. They know. They're a long way from being the perfect couple and they don't really want to be called perfect because there's no such thing. But they understand each other's imperfection well and that's what really matters.

And either by accident or by her father's design to keep her protected and well cared for, Gabriella's life became more than what she had always wished it would be.

"Some luck those two have, huh?" Sharpay mentioned while she stood next to Chad by the bar observing their best friends. When Chad threw her a furrowed look, she explained. "I mean, who would've thought they'd work . . . make a forced marriage work and have a future together. I sure as hell didn't."

"Yeah." Chad nodded with a smirk but he was remembering something Patrick Reiss had told him and Troy when they were wild, reckless high school freshmen. At that time, it sounded like a cheesy line out of a romantic movie. "Someone told me and Troy once that people don't go about looking for love. They just happen like heaven sent gifts. And when it does, mutual work is needed to hone that feeling which, luckily for our friends despite the unexpected and rocky start of their relationship, it's what they unknowingly did."

Sharpay smiled and turned her head sideways to stare at Chad who was still looking at Troy and Gabriella like a proud friend, like he had a hand in making the relationship work. "Sometimes, you amaze me, Danforth." She alleged earning her an ironic twitching of the lips from Chad who assumed it was her usual sarcastic complimenting of him.

He chuckled, not bothered in the least. "Let's disturb them." Chad tipped his head toward Troy and Gabriella. "They have plenty of time to cuddle in the future."

"So true . . ."

* * *

_Thank you again, guys!_

_Oh, kindly forgive the typos or grammar errors if there are any. In my haste to get this out, I didn't have time to edit._

_Mich._


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